Appearance of the White Lady
by Ando Owen
Summary: There is no such thing as a minor character, everyone is the main character of their own story. It just happens that some of them only have minor roles in other people's lives. This is the journey of someone who only played a minor role in another wanderer's story.
1. An unexpected travel

**Appearance of the White Lady**

**Chapter 1:**** An unexpected journey**

The cave was small and dark and filled with painful memories. Yet, leaving it felt like I was abandoning a part of myself. Fortunately, it was exactly what I sought, to leave this part of me locked there, in this forgotten corridor.

I walked to the circular room, directly linked to the cave. It was difficult to see it when it was buried underground, but the circular room is actually the inside of a tower. There wasn't so much space available, with the center of the room being used as part of a lift system, and a spiral staircase on the side, a human could have walked around freely but I had to be careful to not hit something by accident.

The ground was sticky and covered of broken pieces of discoloured eggs. The whole area was bathing in dried indistinct living fluids, which had splashed once the eggs had been crushed. The one who smashed everything, the wanderer, had done the job ruthlessly. I could see vestiges of his onslaught on the walls where the eggs had grown. There were marks of a blunt weapon on the lower level of the walls, and proof of explosions higher, where the wanderer couldn't reach with his weapons. Thankfully, the stones of the building were sturdy.

While I was impressed by the scale of devastation my saviour brought here, looking at the remnants of the diseased eggs gave me nothing more than a feeling of hollowness. I gave so much for these eggs, suffered for so long, only to find them so expertly put asunder at my feet. I didn't even mind that much.

I realized then how desperately delusional I became in order to fool the pain my body was living in. I was ashamed of myself, of the state of mind I had been in for the past thousand years. I didn't even want my progeny to be birthed. I was merely toying with the idea of the life my tainted offspring would have lived, ignoring the fact that they would never leave their eggs unscathed, and that nature wouldn't be so cruel as to let them survive. I became addicted to the poison preventing me to heal, and then Eingyi did nothing against it.

I shook my head and walked. I couldn't allow myself to start analyzing my errors now. Eingyi was the proof I couldn't trust myself, especially about not affording myself to drown in my own guilt and shame. I didn't want to be unhappy, and thinking about what I was doing, or what I had been doing would only hamper this aim. I walked.

The room had several exits, each leading someone elsewhere. The stairs would be the first steps to reach the open sky. The system of elevation would take someone deeper underground. There was another entrance, a hole dug through a wall in fact, which would bring to the magmatic grotto. And then, the corridor where I came from, a forgotten path I had been using as hideout.

Slowly, I went to the staircase, in direction of the open sky. It was difficult to climb upstairs, I didn't have much space, but I managed after much effort.

During my ascent, I was able to see the magmatic grotto. A gigantic space where lava had flown since the appearance of the Primordial Flame. Once a wonder of nature, one I would look at with fondness if not for the toxic emanations it produced which stifled my throat, the reason why I was currently mute. But now, the liquid fire had disappeared, only leaving the way to an old path towards the heart of my homeland.

Looking at the flowing magma was reminding me of my dear, poor little brother. He suffered as much as I had, if not more. Losing his body, losing his ring, losing us, his family, twisted in a gigantic distortion of his own body while watching over our dead sister's body, the only one who stayed with him, and trying to forget the consuming heat of the lava over his sores. At least, until my saviour slayed him.

I bear no grudge towards the wanderer to have killed him, or what remained of him. Even when I was in the corridor, my domain, I could feel his agony. I heard him once, venting his anguish and his rage against the rock of the grotto. It had been merciful to slay him, of at least what had been him a long time ago, before the Flame of Chaos mutated him into the Ceaseless Discharge. May he now rest in peace.

_To rest in peace..._ I lied. I do bear resentment against the wanderer, but it wasn't because he slayed my family.

I shook my head, it was unbecoming of me to be jealous.

I reached the end of the staircase and continued my way. Leaving the tower, I went into another chamber. It was huge room with more space to move. An uneven ground with roughly paved stones, and grown unfertile eggs on the walls. I knew the room. I remember it. It is the exit towards the Great Swamp, the link between our now lost homeland of Izalith and the world under the sky. It was the domain of my sister Quelaag.

_Quelaag died here._

I felt like my heart wanted to be torn out of my body. I took the sword on my back and clutched it tightly to my chest, reassuring myself in the proximity of its embrace. I walked faster and faster in direction of the exit. If I started to think about anything right now, I would cry and I couldn't afford myself this much leisure.

_I have to focus on the sun._

Blurring the difference between walking and running, I left the underground cavern via the passage leading to Blighttown only to appear in front of something which looked like a swamp, but wasn't a swamp. I was at the opening of the entrance, on an islet of sand, roots sprouting out of the ground. I could only watch, astonished at the sight of the area.

There was a vast body of liquid, huge pylons of stone built around, a cliff on my left and a sky high wall on my right. For those things I knew I was in the Great Swamp, but if it wasn't for those distinctive features, I would have thought had I landed somewhere else, for I saw hell.

Demons, childrens of the Flame of Chaos, came here and cursed the place. Scourge and diseases had flown and corrupted the land. Noxious blood poisoned the water, darkening the mud. The sheer atmosphere was fetid, the air putrescent, local odours mixed with a dreadful smell of putrefaction. I was for the first time thankful for the fact that my stomach was absolutely void of any food for I would have emptied it right away.

I looked around this unnaturally wretched underworld. Horrendous beasts had grown in this geographical affliction. My eggs weren't the only unnatural things there, in this blight. Decay was omnipresent.

There is nothing worse than life without health. I had recently had an occasion to brand this sentence deep into my flesh, but now I had the opportunity of witnessing it with my own two eyes. Those vile monsters were only the mutated remains of the species they had been prior to their corruption. Poisonous giant mosquitoes, overgrown leeches, fire-spitting spider-like crawling things. There were also mad giant humanoids, insane barbarians fighting with clubs and throwing boulders. Those unlucky creatures had been turned into abominations.

It was such a horrible sight it was painful to watch. It hurt even more knowing I had been part of the origin of this corruption. Watching those pieces of poisonous living meat, I could only think of the Flame of Chaos, and the physical shape it assumed, the Bed of Chaos, as responsible for this nightmare.

I remembered the wanderer had told me what he had to fight through to reach me but I was still unsettled to see the swamp's distorted beasts. The name Blighttown was sadly a perfect match to this place. Once again, guilt and sorrow filled me. I was too emotional. I would have to calm down, I had to focus on the sun.

_I had to move, or I would do nothing and continue to think._

Something clicked inside of me. I became lucid, I resolved the problem, the solution coming to me naturally. I recalled happy children, playing in a garden. I would do the same thing as them.

_I would crush the bugs under my feet._

First, I met huge barbarians. I incinerated their flesh until nothing remained but ashes. Then I cut down the crawling leeches, monstruosities huge enough to reach the knee of a human. I continued this way, slaughtering every vermin coming across my path. While it had been the only way to advance with my current body, it didn't mean I wasn't doing it with zeal.

I was enjoying the slaughter. I was intoxicated by the idea of having power over others, it was refreshing to see myself being able to tear everything apart. As crude as it was to enjoy power through physical violence, I had been without it for so long that the power to make sure the things I wanted dead were killed was pleasurable anew.

Through flames and steel, I made my path through the creatures's corpses. My flame, tainted by the Chaos, shared my incendiary impulses, resonating with my heart's desires. I made sure to use each body I incinerated as fuel to fill my heart with joy.

The sword was more than willing to lend me its strength. It is the best weapon I could have dreamed of in my condition. One hundred and forty centimeters long, the sheer length of the blade was allowing me to fight foes smaller than I, like the crawling things and the leeches. The shape of the blade was making it possible to use it as both a spear and a sword, with an affinity for thrusts and slashes. The flames coming out of the blade each time I brandished it were perfect to take care of smaller targets like the poisonous mosquitoes.

I could feel it, deep inside my bones. This sword is Quelaag. That the remnants of her consciousness were recognizing me, even in this appearance, could alone have brought me to tears. But the sword prevented it, overwhelming me with the warmth of its embrace. And so, I wielded Quelaag's Furysword.

Cutting things apart with a blade had never been so enjoyable before. Slaughter is always more enjoyable to do along with family.

But all things came to an end, and no matter how cathartic it was to burn everything, I couldn't find a way to reach the higher levels of the city. Time and violent creatures had destroyed the roads and the elevators used to go higher.

Had I my former body, I could have managed, using the giant wheel as an alternative elevator for example. But I wasn't anthropomorphic anymore, and my current body was too big for improvized means humans and the undead could use. Monsters tried to kill me every so often, so I couldn't find a way to continue on an already destroyed road with vermin rushing after me. They were too numerous for me to use anything else than my pyromancy, further destroying the damaged rubble of what could have been stairs.

Even with all my litteral firepower, I couldn't last long. My lungs and my throat were filled with soot. I had been trapped in my domain for too long to not be weakened by the magmatic emanations. I was quickly losing my breath fighting the corrupted monstruosities. My throat was sere, and my weak muscles screamed in pain against the abuse I had put them through. It was to be expected, to have atrophied muscles if you had stayed still for such a long time as I had.

My stomach was also painfully making me aware of its physical vacuum.

It was useless to work on something if I were distracted restlessly, thus, I went into one of the tunnels, dug into the cliff, to catch my breath back.

Originally, the tunnel was supposed to be a drain, driving used water to the lowest level of Blighttown, the swamp, where I currently was. Since the downfall of Lordran's population, it no longer had a use. I was quite lucky in the fact that there was a bonfire inside it, thus, making the tunnel a perfect place to rest.

I no longer felt the vacuum of my stomach, being filled by the energy the bonfire granted me, as a firekeeper, to survive. My last meal's memory was so far away back in the past that I wasn't sure my mouth remembered how to chew. It was a problem all undead could relate to. The thought that it may be possible that no skilled cook existed in Lordran anymore was depressing.

Trying to think about something less glum, I imagined one of the undead failing to cook a stew, without knowing why, because he no longer had a functioning nose and tongue. I tried to laugh, but it was harming my throat.

I wondered about what the wanderer was doing. He was there during my rehabilitation, he told me his story to make me think about something else and he asked my advice. He was preparing himself to defeat the Lord of Sunlight, and wanted to know my thoughts about it.

It had been a while since I last saw him. I didn't know if he fought Gwyn yet. While Gwyn's defeat was ineluctable, I was still uncertain about how long the battle between the god and the wanderer, the immovable object against the irrepressible force, would last.

After hearing what Gwyn had done following our failure with the kindling of the Second Flame, I told him everything I knew which could prove to be valuable for his fight against Gwyn, and for the aftermath of his triumph.

Gwyn, The Lord of Sunlight is overwhelming. His power originates from the Lord Soul he took from the First Flame, soon after the beginning of Disparity, giving him dominion over the light, all sources of light. He dominates both lightning and stars, while having influence over fire. He might as well be called The Lord of the Sky, and the Lord of the Outer Fire in addition to his other titles, as Leader of the Gods, and King of Anor Londo. For Gwyn, the sun is merely an illustration of his own power over the world.

Thankfully for the wanderer, the reason he had to fight the Gwyn was because he went to the Kiln of the First Flame in the core of the world, hoping that the other gods would find a solution to perpetuate their reign, the Age of Fire. The Kiln being in the core of the planet, it would prevent Gwyn from striking down his foe from the sky. At least not without destroying the world first. Something which wouldn't be impossible. At least, during his prime.

Being the fuel of the Kiln would also have extremely reduced him, it wouldn't have surprised me if he had become nothing more than a husk of his previously glorious self. He had stayed in the Kiln almost as long as I in my domain, it would of course have horribly crippled him. He had been burning for a thousand years already.

It was all the wanderer would need.

But even when the wanderer would come out victorious of the divinicide, he would still have things to take care of therafter. Nobody would want to fight Gwyn for glory, sane or not, weakened or not, undead or not. When the wanderer would slay Gwyn, he would do it so to achieve his fate as Chosen Undead.

But what would result from it?

This prophecy of the Chosen Undead and the wanderer's story were part of one of the most downright suspicious ploys I have ever heard of. Only the Serpents, Velka and Seath would be devious enough to imagine a story like that, and especially bold enough to enact it.

The Serpents's movements are too random to make a proper estimation over the range of their influence, they might as well be everywhere. It was easier thinking about Seath who stayed in the same place. Seath, at least, couldn't be the mastermind, he wouldn't let one of his experiments roam freely so near the Archives, and anyway, this Undead Asylum the wanderer told me about wasn't part of his sphere of influence. In fact, if one had to have influence over this asylum, it would be Velka, the Goddess of Sin.

Since Seath couldn't be the culprit, the main suspects were either Velka or the Serpents. Both had their reasons to wipe Lordran from Gwyn. Velka would punish the god for Priscilla's exile and for his tyranny and the Serpents would accelerate the coming of the Dark, not unlike what happened to Oolacile.

I shivered when I shared my suspicions with the wanderer. Putting it into words made it easier to imagine it. The plot could come from both Velka and the Serpents. It wasn't even necessarily a verbal agreement. Velka would send the undead to Lordran thanks to her loyal servant, her timeless Snuggly the Crow and would let the Serpents goad her champion into slaying the gods. The Serpents would only have to await the undead, sent with the blessing of the exiled goddess, and then manipulate him into killing all who could oppose the coming of the Dark.

No matter what the Chosen Undead chose to do afterwards his triumph, Gwyn's death would speed up the end of the Age of Fire and the coming of the Dark.

I did care somewhat about the fate of the wanderer, but I accepted the fact that I couldn't do anything about it. The bonfire was still alight near me, but it wouldn't last. If the wanderer killed Gwyn, bonfires would be extinguished and the wanderer might not want to sacrifice himself to kindle them anew. I was acting on a time limit. It was all that mattered to me.

That, and the fact I smelt of shit.

Reality came down on me at last, along with the impulse to clean myself from the disgusting scent. At least, while the air was reeking of decaying faeces, it was left alone by the monsters thanks to the fact it wasn't filled with the poisonous mud. The conduit was built to release liquids in one direction, not in the other. It means bugs could only come from one direction, which made it easier to crush them.

It was disgusting, but in exchange for the filthiness coming with the splattered blood and bile, I had some semblance of modesty on my naked body. I wanted to laugh when I seriously considered to choose between modesty and filth. Only my sore throat prevented me from actually doing it. The fact that I willingly used the blood of the bugs I killed as layer of cloth was a proof of how dire my situation was.

I had to move. And quickly.

I was sitting near the bonfire, from a position which enabled me to watch the exit. Taking my time to get my breath back, I stared at the flames, thinking about the next step of my plan.

_I want to see the sun, and drink water._

It wasn't as if I had anything to gain from staying underground, and I was still underground because I had nothing left to lose. With nothing more than my mind, I would soon drown myself in my guilt. To stay in Izalith in those circumstances would bring me nothing but despair. I hadn't survived for so long only to regret that I didn't die sooner. And now I had a goal.

But I was at the bottom of a swamp in the middle of a rift valley. Roots of archtrees, gigantic trees, were blocking the sunlight from this hellhole, and the swamp was so polluted that I would prefer to drink sand rather than let its pollution reach my lips.

Blighttown's buildings were too damaged to be used to reach the surface. My way back, through Quelaag's domain, would not lead me anywhere I wanted to go. I took care of my followers before deciding to crawl to the surface, and I didn't want to go there again. I could try to explore the swamp, but it would lead me nowhere, and creatures would fall on me like ants on a piece of dead meat. And if I stayed, vermin would attack me anyway….

I was trapped and I didn't know where to go. I felt things crawling outside the tunnel, moving in the infested mud of the swamp. Sooner or later, the swamp, or its inhabitants, would kill me. The creatures were too numerous for me to be able to burn them all. One day, they would outnumber me.

Trying to reach the upper levels of Blighttown would be nigh impossible, and I would die buried in the rubble.

Going into the swamp would quickly kill me, I would be nothing more than bait for every ambushed vermin I would find buried in the mud.

Staying in the tunnel would sooner or later kill me, and I would die buried in shit.

Going back to my domain and I would die, killing myself in despair and guilt, buried in tragic memories and magma.

This knowledge came down on my head with the solemnity of a gravestone. My situation, even perceived objectively, was hopeless. I didn't know what to do.

Should I try to steal the dream of my sister Quelaag? To abandon myself in bloodlust and make a last woman's stand against the swamp's abominations, slaughtering everything until my turn finally came? With the remnants of my sister's soul, her Furysword, it shouldn't be too hard.

But it was Quelaag's fantasy, not my own, and if I died this way, even while she would have praised me for the martial feat, I would die regretting to have borrowed the death she always wanted, instead of my own. I was tired of being guilty and I didn't need any additional regrets. I had desires to fulfill first.

Knowing her anyway, she would have prefered other circumstances to do something so extremely utterly reckless. She would have wanted a damsel in distress to save, most likely me, as she fought fearlessly against all my evil and lubricious suitors. Not that she hadn't done it before. She always had a fancy for drama.

She wouldn't want to be heroic alone in a swamp, especially in Blighttown. There is nothing epic in this swamp. Just plain putrid water with foul monsters around. No food, no warmth, no public, and more importantly, no beautiful virgins she could forcefully drag to our inn to take care of.

The nostalgia made me smile, and I refocused my thoughts on my problem.

_What did I have to do to reach the sun?_

…..

I would have started to speak to myself in this kind of situation, but I couldn't. I was left alone even by my own voice, forced to wander inside my own head. It was exactly what I was trying to avoid before coming there. Now, my situation was only worse. No, the situation wasn't worse, I just realized how bad it actually was.

Five minutes easily before I admitted I couldn't find a solution. I sighed. I needed something else to avoid thinking about something bad.

Thankfully, something happened.

I was taken by surprise when, suddenly, something started. On the wall of the tunnel, on my right, purple light appeared out of nowhere and burned itself into letters. Slowly, as though being written by a delicate hand, symbols inscribed themselves, one by one into the wall.

Glowing in a purple light, I could feel the spell - for it was obvious the phenomenon was part of an unusual supernatural feat - that created these symbols was destined to me. Strangely enough, even if I didn't know the alphabet composing the message, I was still able to make out its meaning:

_**My name is Tiffania Westwood.**_

_**Pentagon of the five elemental powers, heed my summoning and bring forth my familiar.**_

I had never encountered this kind of magical phenomena before, it was some kind of long distance spell which could find someone and write a message on the nearest surface. I wondered how it had been created. It gave off an unusual feeling, one difficult to explain, like a presence, but without an individual to exult it.

I remembered the words of the Knight with the armour covered in spikes. He told me the world had changed. Lordran's perception of time had changed, becoming hazardous, and an item, a soapstone of a specific colour could be used to summon people from elsewhere for a brief time.

To put it into a nutshell, some kind of item allowing someone to use a summoning ritual or some sort of spell bending space.

I would have loved to work on the phenomenon, I never had the chance to work on instantaneous travel. It would have greatly helped me with my theory on teleportation, some hundreds of years ago before the disaster, to work with a space-time bending item. All I would have needed was those soapstones, some test subjects, time and it would have been fairly easy. Unfortunately, time and resources were exactly what I lacked. I only had this message, which could disappear anytime.

The Knight of Thorns told me how it looked, and this message seemingly looked like one of those summoning invitations. Thus, what should I do with this invitation? If I was summoned elsewhere, I would most probably have to fight. To summon beings as powerful as I in times of peace would be wasteful. I would still have to fight, it is the reason why this message had been sent.

Or maybe they summoned me hoping I would share with them my limitless knowledge and wisdom, in which case they couldn't have make a better decision. As a witch of Izalith, I was more knowledgeable than any human sorcerer could hope to be. Some of them, like this Big Hat Logan the wanderer mentioned, might be more brilliant than I, but it wasn't uncommon for some humans to develop a stroke of genius. My knowledge and experience is far greater, expanding over thousand of years.

It would be great if I just had to share my wisdom, but I didn't want to desillusion myself anymore. The last time I indulged myself in this kind of mistake was still fresh in my mind, especially for a being as ancient as I.

I would have to fight. Only in Blighttown I was sure that I would die at some point. In fact, this invitation was a boon, it was summoning me elsewhere, I would maybe not have to deal with the swamp's atrocities. No, I wasn't even sure I would still be in Blighttown if I was summoned, I could also be summoned directly in the great city of Anor Londo.

While I thought about it, monsters outside the tunnel continued to crawl in the mud. I took a huge breath, making sure to smell each nuance of odour in the air, decaying faeces first. I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore.

Even if I deluded myself, I was sure of the fact that I had nothing else to lose than my life, my mind and the sword, and I had everything to gain from leaving this place. I couldn't think of a worst place to be than the poisonous swamp, so there was no reason why leaving it would be stupid, every other place being better than this one. Even with my luck, I would not be unlucky enough to be summoned to fight something as dangerous as Nito, or as mad as Seath. Worse, Gwyn himself.

Even if I was summoned for only a few hours, I could still use that time to reach the sun. It was all I asked. And if even then I couldn't reach the sun, at least, I would not be alone for a while.

Touching the message carved with my hand, and closing my eyes, I focused my mind on it, and accepted the summoning.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

The ground changed. It was still composed of stones, but its feeling had completely changed, it wasn't even inclined on a side anymore. It was an honest-to-Gwyn floor I could expect from an Astorian fortress.

For my greatest delight, the air too had changed. From the pestilential atmosphere of Blighttown, it had become one of a windy night. I could feel the wind on my skin, even with the dried blood covering me. I would have to take a bath to properly appreciate the feeling of the cold wind.

While the wind licked my skin, I didn't feel any sunlight. It would mean that either I was inside a great fortress which had wind coming from outside, or I was in open air at night. Both are good alternatives, way better than Blighttown.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, my smile widening.

Until something fell on my arse.

The statement itself was wrong, but it was still true. It was wrong to think I had an arse anymore, I had been discarded of such part of my anatomy a long time ago. Nonetheless, while the lower part of my body had been replaced in favour of an arachnid one, I could apparent the abdomen, the big part at the rear of the spider, to my arse since my humanoid upper body was sewed by the waist to its cephalotorax, the front part of the spider.

Of course, a spider's abdomen is a lot more than just a digestive system and a way to excrete but it was easier for me, as an anthropomorphic being by birth, to think of the result of my mutation as such.

And so something fell on my arachnid arse. Judging from the weight of the item and the sound it screamed as it fell and made contact with my exoskeleton, it was most likely a human who fell from some high place.

This event was too unexpected for me to do anything about it. My legs were already exhausted from the exertion I put them through during my adventure in Blighttown. None of my forty eight joints resisted as my main body hit the floor, my eight legs bent, forced to give in. It was painful. I was used as a cushion to this unexpected aggressor, feeling the impact going through every inch of my body. I would have yelped from sheer shock had my throat been anything other than scorched.

As soon as I understood what happened, I drew my sister's sword out of my back and made a violent motion with my body to throw off my aggressor, I didn't want an opponent riding on my back. It was my most obvious blind spot, a particularly weak one for a spider. I felt him being thrown to the floor, too unprepared against my sudden action. My muscles spasmed painfully once I finished the motion, still weak from the rascal's sudden fall.

Night had fallen and only moonlight illuminated the place, it was enough for me. Looking around for the first time, I noticed that I was right, my new environment was some kind of courtyard paved with stone, with a tower of the same material built near. I didn't recognize the architecture but it wasn't my priority. I had someone to take care of.

I found my target, where I felt him fall, he was trying to move, but he was still disoriented. The rascal was wearing a deep blue cape and had a sheath strapped to his right shoulder, but it seemed he had lost his weapon, or most probably left it before he fell. I would burn him anyway.

I had already drawn Quelaag's Furysword, I might as well use it. The blade was sharing my anger. Rushing to him with my eight legs, I made use of the adrenaline reaching my brain to ignore the pain of my mistreated muscles. Swinging the furysword, flames started to appear from its edge, eager to consume his flesh.

I must have been quite careless because I heard someone nearby incanting something, and threw flames to protect my aggressor. It was a very fast pyromancy. The flames, taking the shape of a wild snake, went directly after my wrist. I jumped back, retreating from this surprise attack. The fire snake quickly disappeared after failing its assault.

_I have never seen such pyromancy before._

The first thought that went through was that one of my sisters was here, but I squashed this desperate fantasy as fast as it came. I turned to see the origin of this praiseworthy accomplishment, and found a bald middle-aged man, with a staff catalyst. He wore blue robes and glasses. He looked at me cautiously, six meters away from me.

I was astonished. I never thought I would fight a pyromancer from outside the covenant. When the wanderer told me he had learned pyromancy, I had been an inch away from apoplexy. Right now, I wasn't as shocked as when he told me, but I was surprised, I didn't think I would find another human pyromancer, especially so quickly after my release from my domain.

Us of the Izalith covenant weren't supposed to teach pyromancy to outsiders. Mother herself prohibited it, forced by Gwyn, to prevent us from creating an army of pyromancers. From what the wanderer said, Quelana taught the inhabitants of the Great Swamp pyromancy once Gwyn went to the Kiln and the other gods left.

I was honestly surprised. It is difficult to make fast, or flash pyromancies because of a problem of control. Pyromancies are simple to understand, but difficult to use without doing harm to oneself during the process. It is why the covenant avoided swift pyromancies by caution, to make sure we do not harm ourselves by accident.

To use a pyromancy as fast and still as strong as this snake of fire, he must have a control over the fire I would have never thought possible for humans, even from the wanderer.

I was furious.

He tried to harm me with the art Quelana taught to humans. Knowing her, as a dear sister of mine, she must have started to teach pyromancy out of pity and desperation, in the same way I acted with my followers, only with a less self-destructive approach. The only survivor, miraculously unscathed only due to the fact she ran away as fast as possible like the cowardly crybaby she was, she ended her escape in a peaceful swamp which would soon after be violated and corrupted by the same monstruosities who killed her family, demons who appeared only because of a failed ritual we had started.

Even if she had been as tough as Mother, she would have cried in despair. Crybaby Quelana had most likely been brought to the edge of sanity. The Great Swamp being rampaged by demons, she must have sympathized with its inhabitants who lost everything too. It was surely then that she taught them pyromancy. She was the most afraid of the Flame amongst us, and most likely traumatized after the Bed of Chaos disaster. Still, she shared her fire. She understood her future disciples would prefer to burn themselves than die in a cold and muddy swamp. She had been cruel to give them such a choice, a cold death or a life filled with harm and warmth.

Crybaby Quelana has always been like this, and this is why I admired her.

Quelana made it possible for mankind to manipulate for the first time the primitive fire which gave birth to the Disparity with their own bare hands. She had taught them to fight against the dark and the cold when their houses had been destroyed, when the swamp wished their death, she taught them a way to defeat demons and survive.

And now, her disciples are using her art to harm me, the sister of their Mother of Pyromancies, their saviour who disobeyed a direct order from the Lord of Sunlight to rescue them? The sun is too mild for them.

They shouldn't have given reason for Quelana to possibly regret her decision. Should I allow my sister to blame herself because her disciples were harming me, her only remaining sister?

_Never._

I didn't think the first humans I would find would show me such a treacherous behaviour. Their only redeeming feature compared to this despisable worm of Eingyi was that at least they were honestly blunt. The idea of using the stone tower nearby as a pyre, and awaiting the coming of the dawn was creeping into my mind.

The rascal on the ground was seemingly harmless, except if he was the disciple of this pyromancer, in this case he would try to cast me something. By caution, I moved away from the boy, while keeping the same distance with the pyromancer. He tried to harm me with a pyromancy, I would not let him believe he had a sliver of a chance to win against me.

Sheathing the Furysword in my back, I showed the pyromancer my two empty hands. The bald man seemed to ease up, believing I was giving up the fight, was he this naive? He was going to regret it. I created a fireball, a basic pyromancy, in my right hand, the size of a small flask. The pyromancer blinked.

I threw the fireball at him. He was confused for an instant, which was odd. The fireball wasn't dangerous in appearance, and I threw it at his feet. When the fireball started to shift before its explosion, the pyromancer, instantly, dropped into a roll, avoiding most of the damage. Instantly, he cast another spell on me. It was some kind of spear of fire, thrown at my waist, the link between the two parts of my body.

I side jumped it. Having eight legs can be useful to make powerful movements as long as you are prepared, even if it's harder to control than two. This pyromancy was slower than the flame snake he had launched before. Speed wasn't needed, it was a distraction. While I avoided it, the man incanted something else.

It was odd. While using a staff could help to add range to pyromancies, incantations were useless. Did he mix pyromancies and sorceries?

I tried to work on this concept a long time ago, after someone had given me the idea. It hadn't worked well. It was to be expected when you are working with an old hermit taking advice from his collection of dead dogs' ghosts, all bearing variants of his wife's name. At least he was saner and less dangerous than Seath.

My opponent had probably met a lot more success than I in this experience.

The pyromancer finished his incantation, and aimed his foci at me. A huge wave of fire came out of the staff in my direction. It was a widespread version of the fire surge. One large enough to overwhelm me by its sheer size. Quickly, I generated a powerful combustion from my hands. A huge explosion of flames appeared from within the palms of my hands, dismissing the wave of flames as my gust of fire came into life.

I was surprised. This wave of fire was quite powerful, I looked in the direction of the pyromancer, only to frown, the man was battle-hardened. I took care of one of his powerful pyromancies without difficulty and he didn't even blink. He likely had several trump cards up his sleeve if he could allow such pyromancy to fail.

Avoiding letting him learn too much about the extent of my mastery over the art, I just cast once again weak fireballs at him at a different pace each time, observing him. He side stepped the first one, avoided the second and used his staff somehow to parry the third, avoiding damage. He countered with an another wave of flames, this time I parried it with a fire whip, a tongue of fire coming from my hands. I continued my onslaught, casting a few more fireballs only for him to continue avoiding these.

It was strange.

Why was he taking his time, attacking without wanting to harm? From the amount of power we were willing to use against each other, we could have been sparring partners. I wondered if he was the one who had summoned me. Unlikely, he didn't look like someone named Tiffania. A fortress at night, a summoning, a boy falling from a tower. I was unable to find a credible explanation. I didn't know, and in fact, it didn't matter. The only explanation I could think of right now was that he had summoned me to have an organic cushion in order to save the boy, in which case I would kill him most painfully anyway, which was already my plan.

It was the middle of the night, and I still had to reach the sun. It was not a question of location anymore, to have the sunlight touch my skin, it was now a question of time. I felt my hopes rising at this simple thought. I have to survive until the dawn. I only have to finish this fight quickly to be prepared for the rest of the night.

The gifted pyromancer, realizing I was preparing myself, took back his stance, ready to continue to fight.

It seemed he wasn't the kind to attack first. I didn't see why I wouldn't use it to my advantage. I was so tired I was having trouble standing on my own legs, I would have to finish it quickly. Going for the kill, I conjured one of my most potent pyromancies, an orb of fire tainted by the power of the Chaos Flame, part of which lived inside of me. He could not possibly know this detail of my physiology, giving me an edge against him.

My pyromancy flame, my ancient, powerful flame started to ignite violently in my palm. The fire I produced within my hand wanted to free itself and devour everything, to lash out on my flesh, but I crushed this blazing impulse with a thought. It was more difficult than I would have liked, I was far from being in top condition, being more tired, famished and desperate than I would have liked to admit. Nonetheless, I was too skilled and experienced to burn myself on my own fire, even tainted by the Flame of Chaos.

Instead of the fireball, the most basic pyromancy, the one the covenant first ever created back in the Age of Ancients, I conjured a more dangerous Great Chaos fireball.

The content of the pyromancy was no longer inside my hand, it was big enough instead, to have my hand at its heart. The flames were no longer yellow and red, but white hot. The heat had increased as well. I condensed an inferno of flames which could have consumed a house into an orb smaller than a skull to cover, as a layer, the living molten lava at the core of the pyromancy, which dripped from my hand.

This pyromancy was nothing more than an abomination made possible by the raw existence of the Flame of Chaos, a flame seeking the living, eating the flesh and being fueled by the Dark. It only created a gluttonous lava eager to consume all life. I felt the dark matter inside of me, human souls, stir as I unleashed their predator into my pyromancy. Keeping humanities inside one's self whilst calling upon the Flame of Chaos makes the pyromancy hungry, wilder and more eager to eat. Only my mastery over pyromancy and my familiarity with this thrice cursed Flame allowed me to restrain the two opposite elements, keeping my body away from being wreaked inside out. If there was one death my whole being would refuse, it would be to be killed by my own pyromancy because I wasn't careful enough.

The orb was burning like a miniature sun in my hand, promising to destroy everything it touched. I have slain castle-sized dragons with flames less harmful than what resided in the palm of my hand.

The pyromancer started to incant something else, a powerful defensive sorcery judging from the way he held his staff. He had good instincts, but he should have run away instead. Even his greatest spell would be for naught against something as potent as what I had conjured.

I prepared myself to cast the spell, seeking to eradicate him mercilessly by aiming above his head in order to shower him in the burning magma of my pyromancy, obliterating him even in the chance he had to escape, when once again I was taken by surprise.

Someone appeared between us.

It wasn't the pyromancer's apprentice, it was a girl. She was dressed like some kind of student, with a short skirt, a white shirt, and a dark-coloured cape. I didn't even notice her presence until she threw herself between me and my opponent, shouting something. With both her arms raised on each side, in the middle of the fight, I supposed she wanted us to stop the fight.

I didn't know her, I had never seen her before, I think I had never heard her language before. Nonetheless, when I saw her, I felt a strange feeling, the same presence I felt when I saw the message in Blighttown's tunnel. The shapeless presence had now someone to project it. I immediately understood who she was.

_Tiffania Westwood._

Panic crept into my mind. Why did she have to throw herself in front of one of the most dangerous pyromancies I could cast?!

I couldn't stop my arm from throwing the voracious fireball, if I tried to let it fall, I would be hit by my own pyromancy, and I knew exactly how lethal it would be. The pyromancer, panicked too, ran to the girl. Hopefully he would die protecting her.

Quickly, instead of throwing the chaos fireball to the pyromancer, I threw it far away, in the direction of his left side, the farthest possible from the girl. My arm made a motion through the air, and the fireball flew. While it was in the air, all I could hope for was that I had properly made the pyromancy, and that no magma would fly off on its own to reach the one in the middle.

It was an unnecessary concern, I was a Daughter of Chaos, my mastery over pyromancy is peerless.

My flames and my aim stayed true and hit the floor a dozen meters away, exploding in a conflagration of sound and fire. The sheer liberation of the fire contained in my pyromancy roared, emitting a howl of fire. Even from my position and prepared for the shock, I could feel the wave of burning air striking me with enough strength to make me take a step back.

Looking in Tiffania's direction, I saw she was safe, the man had somehow used his spell to protect both of them from the brunt of the blasting fire. They were far enough away from the explosion that they weren't touched by the living magma.

I rushed to them. The man seemed captivated by the after-effect of my spell. He didn't realize I was close enough to burn him alive, most probably his ears were still ringing from the blast of sound my pyromancy caused. Luckily for the miscreant, it wasn't my aim anymore. It was likely that I was currently indebted to the girl, and the girl cared enough about him to gamble her life away. I would not kill him right away.

I grabbed both of them by the scruff of their neck, and I took them away from the magma. The pyromancer seemed to not want to fight, and he protected this girl. I had questions to ask to the girl about why she summoned me, she seemed to be a naive and sheltered child. I cannot give another reason for why this idiot went in the middle of a fight, especially one between two powerful pyromancers. It shouldn't be too dangerous to try to save them.

Both of them were surprised when I grabbed them, and struggled against it, but I would have none of that. Even if my spell had been already cast and avoided, the magma was still liquid and hot. It could still melt bones and it was currently melting the ground away, without mentioning the toxic steam. Once we were a dozen meters away from the pond of magma, I released them.

I breathed out. Toxic gases were always things to avoid. My sere throat being a perfect example. I sat on the floor, not wanting to move again. I didn't want to fight anymore. The idiocy of the girl made me lose the adrenaline I had beforehand, and thus, was making me aware of how exhausted I was and how sore my muscles were. My legs were still shaking from the exertion that I had put them through. I also remembered the vacuum in my empty stomach. My shoulders were hurt too. I groaned soundlessly.

The bald man and the girl seemed to be both surprised by my sudden lack of aggressiveness. They talked to each other while the pyromancer took carefully some distance between them and I, but I stayed still, tired, but still ready to cast something lethal.

I heard them talk, the language they used was foreign to me, which was unusual since I knew more languages than I have teeth. The girl, most likely Tiffania Westwood, my summoner, seemed to have a student and teacher relationship with the pyromancer. It wasn't necessary to know a language to read a situation.

Nonetheless, once again, it was strange. Weren't the human pyromancers descended from the inhabitants of the Great Swamp? Why did this man speak a language so different from the one they used? I couldn't even figure out any kind of resemblance.

Then, in the background, other sounds neared our location. It wasn't surprising, since I was summoned, less than three minutes had passed, and I might have caused some noise. I just listened. A young girl, with a strange pink hair colour, ran towards them screaming ''Saito! Saito! Saito!''. Was it a name, or a call for help? She was dressed in the same uniform as this Tiffania girl.

The boy who assaulted me answered to that child. She then threw herself at him, hugging him. The boy must have fallen from the tower, above my summoning point, and the girl must have been there too. Watching the two was quite weird, each spoke his own language and answered to the other fluently.

_Since I will not kill the boy, I will have to make him beg for forgiveness for the pain and the fright he caused me._

The two of them came to the pyromancer, who kept an eye on me. The boy seemed to be quite cautious around me, which was understandable. But then, he held his nose, and said something, most likely about my smell. It grated me. I was brought out of the most corrupted and decayed excuse of a swamp I ever had the privilege to bathe in, what did he expect me to smell of? Fina's latest perfume? For no reason, an image of the over-glorified whore fighting demons in Blighttown appeared in my mind, it was quite hilarious.

Both of the girls were confused, the pink-haired one and my summoner, then, instantly they both held their noses too. The little girl pointed her wand catalyst in my direction. It seems she deduced I liked the smell of blood and mud. I reacted.

I would not let a child threaten me with her catalyst, especially one rude enough to think I had the habit of wandering in a place as disgusting as Blighttown. I snapped my fingers. It wasn't so much a pyromancy as an exercise to practise pyromancy, but I generated a small flame from my hand which instantly flew after the pink-haired girl's fingers, slightly burning her. She dropped her catalyst.

The boy, the other rude one, angry at me to have hurt the child, put himself in front of her protecting her from me. Surprisingly enough, the pyromancer I fought tried to calm them down. The pink-haired child was more astonished than angry at my preemptive strike.

The pyromancer ignored them and went to my side, looked at me and pointed a finger towards himself. He then made a short sentence, where I clearly understood the words 'Jean Colbert'. It must be his name. He considered me a sentient being, intelligent enough to understand him but not knowledgeable enough to know his language. Good. If I was too spent to either move or kill, the next option would be to negotiate.

Luckily, I had consumed my fury against the pyromancer with the chaos fireball, I would not have much trouble restraining myself from killing him in order to communicate.

The problem was that I couldn't talk. My throat was too scorched to produce any coherent sound. I would have to communicate with gestures, it would be tricky, especially with only moonlight to light this courtyard. At least, it would have been just tricky had the clouds stayed where they should have been, not blocking the already weak moonlight. I managed to not groan.

First, slowly, I produced a little fire on my left hand to be used as source of light. It would be needed if I wanted them to understand my gestures. My eyes could see easily through the dark but I could not expect the same from average humans.

Once I produced the fire, and let it stay in my hand long enough for them to understand I wasn't using it to attack, I used my other hand to try to communicate. Putting two fingers to my throat, I then shook my head, hoping it was understandable enough for them to understand that I couldn't talk. I pointed my finger to this Jean Colbert, then I tilted my head to the right, shrugging, with luck he would realize I could not understand his language.

The four of them, the pyromancer I fought, the boy with the cape, the girl who summoned me and the smaller girl talked among themselves, most likely about what I just communicated. They took time. I was quite annoyed to be left out of the conversation, but it was to be expected, I didn't know their language.

Instead, I studied my summoner.

Tiffania Westwood had the appearance of a sixteen year old human girl, but it might well be in appearance only. I am the perfect example of a being older than what my body could lead to believe.

Letting my fire burn brighter, I was able to make out most of her features. Long blond hair and blue eyes. She was a classic beauty, if only for her appearance. She looked like the kind of young woman pious knights were madly in love with. She would have made many of these young warriors swoon.

She would have had the common appearance of a beautiful girl, had it not been for the presence of two unusual features.

First were her ears. Their shape was curious enough for me to wonder whether it came from her lineage or from a mutation, like my own. Long, pointed ears, big and long enough to reach the back of her head, making it likely that each could reach its counterpart. It was aesthetically exotic. I wondered if there was a point about having ears this long, but I reminded myself evolution followed its own laws. I eyed her other assets.

It was her breasts. The sheer size of her breasts was monumental. Oh, I have seen bosoms bigger than her. Gwynevere, the Princess of Sunlight, or even Fina could claim such epic voluptuousness, but they were several-meter-tall goddesses. It was the proportion of the part compared to the rest of the body that made her bosom so impressive. Surprisingly, I found myself caring about her health. I ended my observation there.

Watching them talk, I waited. I couldn't do much else. If I knew their writing, it would have been easier to communicate, but I could not expect them to have the same alphabet as I.

Then, I remembered, even though I didn't know their alphabet, I knew the shape of the one important message to communicate.

Using my left hand, the one holding the fire, I took the already conjured fire, and shaped it to my will, using my memories as reference. Slowly, letter by letter, the message that appeared to me in the tunnel of Blighttown was written again, this time, not in a purple light, but in letters of fire. It was difficult to maintain, between sustaining the fire, and making it keep the same shape, it was nonetheless a good mental exercise.

Their little group looked at the message, having caught their attention, I then pointed my finger to my summoner, the blonde girl, Tiffania Westwood. I couldn't make myself more clear than that. I wasn't acquainted with the term 'familiar', but I remembered human fokloric legends describing sorceresses's pets as such. I was most likely summoned to assist someone, to be named a ghost or a familiar didn't change much.

Colbert smiled, excited, and then went closer to the conjured message, most probably curious about how I maintained it. I only linked the letters together with a thin flame. He then looked at me, made a complicated move with his finger to show his staff, his head, and then my head, probably to ask me if he could cast a spell on me, and I nodded. It was fascinating how from burning each other, we started to be friendly.

I remembered hot-blooded young knights calling this 'The Flames of Friendship' or 'The Fire of Youth', or other childish nonsense I couldn't help but chuckle at.

Colbert incanted a spell, and touched delicately my head with his staff.

''Do you now understand me when I talk?'' He said, kindly.

My eyes widened in shock. Did he just used a spell to translate his language to be understandable to someone who never heard of it? I was astounded. I tried to work on this branch of spells for months and I didn't even know where to start, even when I tried to just make one language translate.

How had he done it? Had he put knowledge of his language into my head? Had he just used a spell to modify sound to be understood by the receiver? Or even better, arranged his understanding of his language to my own linguistical ideas, making me understand anything he can formulate as long as he used the matching word?

In fact, was it a pyromancy or a sorcery? The two ways might have been possible. I am personally both pyromancer and sorceress, it could also be possible for this Colbert. If this translation was a pyromancy, it was somehow translating our intentions into words. Or it could be a sorcery, logically translating our linguistical ideas into concepts understandable by the other. The two arts were fundamentally different from each other, mainly by the fact of pyromancy being instinctual, and sorcery intellectual.

I nodded to the genius who cast this spell. Jean Colbert continued, enthusiastic.

''Were you trying to tell us that you accept Miss Westwood's summoning as a familiar?'' I nodded again. He turned to the one I identified earlier as my summoner. ''You may complete the summoning then, Miss Westwood.'' I was right on a point, this Colbert was a teacher figure.

The blonde girl was a little surprised to be suddenly put in the spotlight. She came closer to me, she looked a little embarassed. She then told me, in a shy and hesitant voice.

''My name is Tiffania Westwood, I thank you for accepting my summoning.'' She looked around, somewhat embarassed for some reason. She breathed deeply. Then, in the next instant, at a speed I didn't expect, her hands caught my head and drew me closer to her own, her lips meeting mine.

She kissed me.

I wasn't expecting this. Thanks to my anatomy my head was still higher than their own, even if I were sitting. Colbert, who must have been one eighty centimeters tall came close, but the blonde-haired girl was around one sixty five. To be kissed by this girl was the last thing I had expected. Thinking about it, this statement might well stand true for my aggressor.

The suddenness of her action might as well be a way to cope her embarrassment over acting so boldly to a woman as magnificient as I. Still, it was odd. She would have waited other circumstances, preferably ones where I was cleaned, before seducing me, had it been her aim. Was it a local custom? Obviously, I couldn't ask right away. I felt myself shivering under her touch.

I felt the humidity of her lips making contact with my dry ones. I felt the living fluid in her hands, which she used to catch the back of my head. I was also feeling her soft, and very voluptuous breasts being pressed into my more modest ones. This contact made me aware of how healthy her blood, her body was. It wasn't so much her erotic appeal - I was certain she was unaware of what the word meant - than her health that thrilled me.

The blood running in her veins wasn't one infected with diseases, it was neither corrupt nor tainted. I felt dirty. It made me jealous, so extremely envious, which made me feel dirtier. More than ever before, I felt my need to find water to drink. My throat was as dry as a desert, and as mercilessly painful.

When she released me, I felt something burning inside of me. It was an eldritch feeling, one I never felt before. The area of skin over my heart burned, as if someone was writing on it with boiling ink. Frustrated, I scrubbed off the dry fluids covering this area, to look at what happened.

The time I took off the layer of filth, I felt the phenomenon had stopped, concluded.

Instead, there were strange runic symbols written on my chest, shining brightly in a purple light. I didn't feel any kind of curse or other magical impediments coming from this thing. I was annoyed that I had been branded, but I was still too tired to put up a fight, and it wasn't as though it mattered too much for my goal.

It must be the reason why my summoner kissed me, she wanted to brand her heraldry on me. It must have been related to the summoning spell she used. I didn't know if I should lash out right away. It might also be an anchor to this world. I would have to wait to have more information. The teacher was looking, curious at what had been branded on my flesh. It seemed it wasn't a generic design that was inscribed, otherwise, he wouldn't have wasted too much time on it.

I was about to make a motion to ask them to explain what happened, when my bold summoner fell on her knees, breathing erratically. Colbert came closer to examine her.

''Don't worry, Miss Westwood is just tired. The Summoning Ritual is quite exhausting and she isn't quite used to casting several spells in a row. She will feel better once rested.'' He said, trying to soothe me. It wasn't necessary, if she was the one who summoned me, it was understandable. She hadn't yet reached her eighteenth winter and she had cast a spell bending space and maybe even time to bring me here. Exhaustion would be a euphemism. He continued.

''Saito, could you see that Miss Westwood is taken back to her room please? I have to watch over her familiar while she is asleep.'' The young man, Saito, nodded and with the help of the pink-haired child, put her on his back. He had a lewd smile on his face when he stood up.

The little girl then lashed out at the boy, calling him a perverted dog and whatnot. Strangely, I found myself concerned for the now sleeping girl. She was the one who took me out of Blighttown, It must have been unease because I wasn't able to properly thank her for her rescue.

I was now alone with the pyromancer, who looked at the heraldry Tiffania Westwood had branded on my skin.

''These are very interesting runes, I would love to learn more about it.'' The apparently scolarly man told me, smiling while his eyes feasted on my now magically branded flesh. His own curiosity showed that either he didn't know much about the subject, dubious since it was his student who summoned me, or that the brand's design was unusual.

The way he looked at me was unnerving. I have looked at laboratory rats in the same way he looked at me. I thought about making something burn to let him feel my displeasure, but then, I had a better idea. The social activity that happened around me was getting to my head, and I wanted to be mischievous. I tried something I haven't done for a long time.

I blushed like an embarrassed maiden.

Startled, I made a small step backward with my legs, taking a protective stance hugging myself with my arms, covering my breasts, retreating from his piercing and gluttonous eyes. Fear and embarrassment from this shameless and lustful man carved itself upon my face. I tried to scream to complete the scene, but the accumulated soot in my throat distorted and deadened the sound.

Perturbed by my reaction, Colbert was first confused and then he understood. He blushed like an embarassed virgin who saw a naked woman for the first time. He panicked. ''I'm sorry! I was so caught up in my academic interest in those runes that I discarded the most basic decency.'' He recomposed himself before continuing. ''Please, excuse this old fool for his scholastic interest.''

Slowly, I let go my defensive stance, looking at the pyromancer with suspicion. Doing my best to not let him see my mirth. Colbert sighed in relief. It would have been entertaining to see the man explaining himself about why he might have lusted after his student's summon while she was under his care. I still had to find a way to punish him satisfyingly, it would be too troublesome to kill him now. He tried to change the subject.

''Miss Familiar, would you follow me please? The wind is quite cold out there and I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking a rest after our sparring.'' He asked me.

I thought about it a moment before nodding, following him to one of the bigger buildings around. There wasn't enough light to have a precise idea of the castle's structure, but it appeared to be a huge tower made of stone.

Luckily, the door was wide enough for me, if a little uncomfortable.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

I had been prepared to deal with sentinels frightened by my appearance, but it seemed a thief had stolen something and every guard had been deployed to capture him, for I saw none of them. The security was either very weak or badly trained, maybe both. It was sad for the local lord.

We were in a circular great hall, with several wooden tables in the middle, each with a dozen chairs on either side. There was a short girl with a staff, another student, seated on one of the chairs, reading peacefully. On the side, there were stairs, leading above the hall. The hall was luminous, even in the middle of the night, thanks to the torches on the walls, which artificially brightened with some magelight sorcery. The tower's layout made me think of Carim, cheering up the stern martial architecture with bright colours. Apart from the door, which was too small for my tastes, it looked good enough.

''Miss Tabitha is reading here? I will ask her if she could give us a hand. Miss Familiar, do you need anything else?'' Using my hands, I tried to imitate the shape of a glass of water, and mimed the movement to drink it. The illusion alone would have made me drool at the thought of the precious liquid had I still had any saliva in my mouth.

''Oh, you are thirsty. I will make a detour to the kitchen to find you a carafe. Please wait here.'' Even the thought of it made me shiver in excitation, I could not even remember the last time I had seen a non-poisonous liquid. I would bless the man once I had my throat cleansed.

The teacher left. First, he went to see this Tabitha, and then, to the kitchens, probably to find what he had promised me. While I watched him move in the hall, his student, to whom he had just spoken, came to me.

The girl was a little shorter than the rude one whose fingers I had burned. She wore, like my summoner, the uniform of a student. She was holding an open book in her right hand, and had a wooden staff catalyst with a huddled up head in her left hand. She had short light blue hair and although her face was inexpressive, her eyes were watching me, hidden behind a pair of glasses. She looked like a silent little mouse.

Once she came within two meters of me, she closed her book. I felt her stare on me, the slight twitch of her nose told me she had smelt the blight, she paused. I felt something from her, a figment of my imagination was telling me she would jump on me and slit my throat, or pin me on a wall with a spell. It was amusing how similar it felt to killing intent.

…..because it was actual killing intent.

I was once again surprised. Since when little girls could produce killing intent? It was exactly the kind of thing I was trying to avoid by being courteous. She was too far away for me to be sure I would hit her with combustion, and yet, too close for me conjure a fireball. I could draw the Furysword but it would take time, it was on my back. I wasn't sure how to deal with a young mage assassin at this precise moment.

I could have answered with the same kind of intent if I wanted to. Killing intent being an instinctive form of sorcery. Projecting your will on reality through imagination is the basis of any spell. Killing intent is thus only a variant on the principle, casting an illusion to someone and making the target understand the will of the caster through empathy.

I was about to start playing this game when it disappeared. The expresionless girl's killing intent lasted no more than two seconds.

''Professor Colbert asked me to clean you.'' The assassin girl said, her frown had disappeared, her voice was low and barely audible. She murmured an incantation.

I was still cautious, but I let her cast her spell, ready to respond. First, Jean Colbert, a pyromancer strong enough to hold his own against me, followed by his student, one little girl who had killed enough to produce murderous intent on a whim. I was certain she wasn't serious about killing me, but she had seriously given it a thought. I reeked so much of blood it warranted the caution of every nearby killer.

I think her spell had something to do with it. Once she had finished her incantation, I felt it had an effect on my skin, more precisely, on the fluids which had dried on my skin. It felt as though someone had erased the filth from my body with a wet thumb, vigorously removing the dried liquids that had splashed over me during my travel through the swamp. These things that felt like thumbs took the shape of orbs. Each of the stains were liquefied before being absorbed into several orbs of the already compacted filth, which then traveled across my body to clean me thoroughly. It felt like a massage. It even mucked out parts of my abdomen I couldn't reach myself. I couldn't explain it, but it felt like she was tearing off rags that I didn't know I was wearing. I felt glorious. The whole process took a minute. I felt less and less dirty, and more and more relaxed. I was amazed at the speed the sorcery cleaned me.

From the mixture of digusting liquids I had been through, my body colour returned to the albinos white of the demonic albinos spider I was bound to. Now free from the horrors' muddy blood, I could once again see the colour of my skin. I was elated at the sight of my milky white complexion. I turned around to look at my abdomen, to find that it too had been completely cleansed of its dirt and had recovered its nacreous colour.

I wasn't albinos by birth, the naturally white colour of my body coming from my mutation. My fusion with the demon spider had been deeper than just being bound to it, my whole body had been altered. My hair lost its colour and became an immaculate white, while my skin became alabaster. It wouldn't surprise me if my eye colour had changed too, most likely red, not that I had seen a mirror since my mutation to confirm it. My innards had also been transformed. It's difficult to be accurate, but it had felt like my bones were heavier, denser, more solid. My muscles became stronger too. It was the only thing which explained that I could have so much endurance, even under the circumstances. After my ordeal, I had thought it would take me weeks before I could even think of walking properly.

While gaining six more legs had been both astonishing and awkward, I found my now pearly skin aesthetically gorgeous. Being mutated with a spider was an evolution, with benefits and drawbacks. The fact that my body became bigger and heavier, but also a great deal stronger in order to sustain its own weight for example. A smile grew on my face as I looked at my body. I felt so much cleaner and lighter. I was feeling elated.

Whatever spell the young girl had used, it had also worked on my hair, it took care of potential lice, I dreaded the thought of what kind of lice could have survived after my escape from Izalith. If the temperature and the toxic gases from the lava hadn't killed them already.

All the condensed filthiness that had been taken from me was assembled in a single ball, floating in the air by the magic the quiet girl used. The orb, which had a dark brown colour, with tints of red, took more space than a grown man's torso. It became obvious why I felt lighter now. Looking at this concentrated mass of disease and poison, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if we threw it in a city's main water source...

It would easily start a plague.

The short girl in front of me made no obvious move, but I saw that her eyebrows rose somewhat. She must have been subjugated by my newly-cleansed beauty. Opening her book again, she left the hall with this floating orb of sickness, hopefully to bury it somewhere. I would have to thank her later and ask her for her spell. One which cleansed and gave a massage at the same time. I wouldn't mind learning it...

Suppressing my desire to daydream, I thought about my current situation.

I lacked information. I had no idea where I was, I was not even sure what happened. The knight of thorns had told me that summoned ones aren't summoned in flesh. I was not supposed to be able to see the actual colour of my skin. I was supposed to be a glowing blue, or red colour, a reflection of myself, not my actual self. I didn't even know if it would have been possible for me to smell anything much less be cleaned. I should have been summoned as a being not so different from a ghost.

Then, there were the runes that the girl had branded on my skin. The more I thought about it, the less I believed it was the summoning process that the knight covered in spikes was familiar with. Were the runes some kind of anchor for my spectral body to be linked to this world, my summoner's crest, or some kind of passive spell to make me more subservient towards her?

Thinking about it, I would have to ask Colbert some questions about how flexible he had been with me. He appeared to have no animosity from the fact that I almost killed him - and still wanted to kill him if possible - the girl, and his apprentice. Unusual for a teacher. I was sure it wasn't his first life-and-death situation either. It would also explain his strength, he most likely had martial experiences in his past.

Perhaps he had been prepared for the situation. His student could have summoned something wild and strong and it would have been his job to beat it to submission for his student to brand it, to assure its loyalty and obedience. It would explain the branding, the runes, the instinctive knowledge that the girl had summoned me, and even the location of my summoning. The courtyard was big enough to hold any kind of creature a human could hope to have the power to summon. It was exactly the way the situation occurred.

As I was thinking about the pyromancer, he came back, bringing what looked like a huge carafe.

I was tired of being patient. I felt I could fly like a butterfly with the weight of Blighttown's diseases off my shoulders, and so, I walked excitedly towards him. He blinked as he watched me walking towards him, gaping before my magnificience. I took the carafe from between his hands and brought it to my face.

The carafe was filled with a liquid I hadn't seen for a very long time. Bewitched and yet skeptical, I tried to confirm its authenticity. It was transparent, I could see the container's bottom through the liquid. It didn't smell of any chemical or organic addition. It was clean. I felt my hopes rise through my chest. I soaked my little finger in the liquid, to examine the density and the texture.

It was water. Clean, unstained water.

Without any hesitation, I brought the carafe to my lips, drinking it in one gulp. I felt the cold water traveling down my throat, cleaning it, healing it. I felt the water mixing with the soot, becoming denser. Because I was grateful to the one who brought me this Gwyn-be-blessed water, I moved to one of the walls of the hall, before continuing my rejuvenation.

I spat out, coughing and splashing the floor and the wall. I drank again. Taking my time this time, savouring the liquid, pleasantly gurgling it, appreciating the healing taking place in my throat. I spat again.

Colbert was going to say something, but he just gawked, astonished at the water that I splashed on the floor. The liquid had turned into pitch black mud. I was curious how I would explain the phenomenon. I would think about it later, maybe.

The wanderer, the Chosen Undead, who had come to my domain had never encountered this kind of problem. When he needed to be healed, he only had to touch a bonfire linked with a firekeeper. Mortal wounds were taken care of in seconds before he could return to fighting monsters several times bigger than him.

For firekeepers, the ones making this kind of miraculous healing accessible to him and to the other undead, it was different. It was common for firekeepers to have their legs and tongues cut off, before being locked in cages, or buried, near their bonfires. The fires provided enough energy to the keeper to prevent his body from dying, but they would not heal superfluous damage.

I had spent so much time in my domain, a cave with direct access to the biggest magmatic cavern I knew, constantly inhaling lava soot, that the inside of my throat had changed colour. An illusionary wall could only protect you so far.

Thankfully, I was not an ordinary firekeeper, nor an ordinary being. My wounds naturally healed quickly, and my binding with the spider only enhanced this ability. Once I had cleansed my throat of the black soot, I would recover and speak again. My natural regeneration was the only reason that my skin had been preserved this well for so long.

Drinking, gargling, spitting. I repeated the operation a few times. The wall I was spitting on had changed colour too, darkening. Once I could feel that the water I spat was not mixed with magmatic soot anymore, I attempted to make sounds. First wordlessly. I felt lonely, singing solitary scales in the middle of a hall, but I didn't want to miss my first words here when I could actually remember what they would be.

After a short moment of trying to make noise, I chose them. I chose what my first words would be in this world.

''Next time, I will know better than to stay in a magmatic cave.'' It was the most recent gem of wisdom I had achieved in my long life. They were fitting words for my circumstances.

My voice was hoarse and my words stumbled off my tongue, so low that I hardly heard anything. It was to be expected in my condition, I hadn't spoken for such a long time.

Colbert was observing me with interest, he would have heard me beforehand had he worn the wanderer's ring, but it would have been highly unlikely. This ring had been crafted by the Izalith covenant during our early experiments, in order to create a magical artefact of protection for our little brother, protection from the lava his own body produced. The little wonder granted its wearer the ability to hear what it is told. While it might seem quite useless compared to other powerful magical artefacts, it was extremely useful when trying to communicate with a mute, or when you are deaf yourself. Depending of the exact effect of the ring, it might even allow someone to hear someone talk on the other side of a wall.

That we met, while he was wearing this ring in my presence was nothing short of miraculous. If I was more paranoid, I would have believed a higher power planned out our meeting. The thought never left my mind though.

But I wasn't in front of the wanderer, I was in front of a teacher in a different dimension. Should I first punish him to have used pyromancy against me or thank him for the carafe? Thanking him first would be best. I would be able to speak to him only because of the water he brought me, and he would be less inclined to accept my gratitude if I harmed him beforehand.

''I give you my heartfelt thanks, Jean Colbert, for the help that you have granted me in my hour of need. I am indebted to you.'' I told him, slowly telling each word, working on my enunciation to be sure he understood the depth of my gratitude.

Joy filled my heart. I recognized the foreign voice as my own. I could speak! I could finally have the pleasure of hearing spirited conversation once again. It had been so long since I last heard my voice's sonorities that I had almost forgotten its low but silvery qualities. Thankfully, I caught on quickly, otherwise I would have seduced myself. Arrogance and egotism are important in one's life, but narcissism is the first step towards pettiness and narrow-mindedness.

I berated myself over my sensitivity towards my own sensuality. Amusingly enough, it seemed both Colbert and I had trouble dealing with my magnificence.

''I have done nothing so grand as to make you indebted to me.'' He humbly said. But then his eyes sparkled with curiosity. ''Although, I would have to admit I am quite curious about your knowledge of fire magic.''

Well, the man was quite singleminded. Still, I was cautious about the way he named pyromancy. I decided I would indulge the man. I just told him I was indebted to him and I was staying with him until Tiffania Westwood woke up. If he wanted to squeeze knowledge out of me as much as possible before his opportunity ended I would allow him to do so. It wasn't as though I'd been aware of this possibility before accepting the summoning.

And anyway, the sun would come up long before I shared even a shred of my knowledge.

''During our exchange, I merely used fireballs, combustions, a whip and an upgraded variant of the fireball. As a practitioner of the art, haven't you recognized those pyromancies yourself?'' My healing factor was truly amazing, I was already beginning to speak fluently. Even the pyromancer should have found it strange, had he cared more about my well-being and less about my expertise on pyromancy.

''So you call your mastery over fire 'Pyromancy'…. Technically, it wouldn't be wrong to call fire magic pyromancy, but why did you think that I was using the same technique as you?'' The mage listened carefully while pondering.

''Because pyromancy is the only way to kindle fire within the self.'' I said matter-of-factly. Channeling your will from your soul into your pyromancy flame in order to kindle its flame before unleashing it on the world would have been a more precise explanation, but it was a little too long. ''Since you are wielding flames for battle too, I deduce you are a disciple of Quelana, who shared her knowledge of the art with the inhabitants of the Great Swamp.''

Colbert waited a few seconds before answering, it had been a most irritating moment. ''No I'm afraid I've never heard that name before. I began my training in magic at nine, became a triangle class mage during my last year at Tristain's Academy of Magic, to finally reach square class level during my apprenticeship under my late mentor, Martin l'Auvergnois.''

….

…...

There were so many things wrong in his explanation that I didn't know where to start. For a short moment, I thought maybe I was facing a charlatan, but then accusing him of being a charlatan would also mean I had been fooled by one up until now, I would insult both of us because of my disbelief. It would be plain rude, and perhaps unwarranted.

Although some parts of his statements might not be wrong, only nonsense seemed to spout out of his mouth. I reminded myself that we weren't speaking the same language. The sounds his mouth produced were different from those that I heard, maybe they were just errors in translation. Hopefully.

''Sir Colbert, could you explain to me, in length, how you practice magic in these lands? I fear there may be a mishap in your translation sorcery.'' I asked, most serenely in appearance. The mage nodded, even if he looked confused about why I asked this question.

''Magic is an innate skill mages have, which allows them to manipulate the world through a focus, generally a wand or a staff. Each mage has an affinity making it easier for him to learn spells from his element, may it be earth, fire, water or wind.'' He explained with natural.

Maybe I had been summoned to some kind of hallucination coming straight out of Seath's mind. The teacher continued, without caring about the damage he was dealing to my sanity.

''The power of a mage is defined by his willpower and the number of effects he can stack in one spell. A mage who can only cast a single-action spell is called a dot mage, to be able to stack two effects is to be a line mage, three is a triangle one, and then square mages, able to stack as far as four effects in one spell.'' Colbert ended his explanation here. ''Is there any difference from what you are used to?'' He looked at me, curiosity shining inside his eyes.

Wrong. How much I wanted to tell him that. This place is wrong. I was now sure of it. It didn't give me any way to answer. Telling him bluntly his theory on magic was a joke would not be helpful. I'm used to this kind of situation. I have worked with Seath the Scaleless, I know what happens when you tell a genius his theories are maybe somewhat lacking. I had to find a way to gain time to think, a way to make him think about something else. Cornered, without any other alternative, I used the most stupid and childish trick that went through my mind to divert his attention.

I let my stomach rumble loudly. It wasn't difficult, I was still extremely hungry. I smiled bashfully as the sound resonated through the silent hall, sincerely embarrassed.

''While discussing the supernatural arts is most enjoyable, I fear I can't recall the last time I had a decent meal.'' It was the truth. ''Could you bring me something from the kitchens while I collect my thoughts please? We can always talk later, once we are seated.''

''Of course. I'm sorry. I should have realized. You were quite…. dishevelled, after your summoning, I should have expected that. Wait here please, I'll come back in a second, Miss.'' The man was hurrying towards the kitchens, but before I forgot to, I told him something important. A last confirmation, mingled with politeness.

''My name is Quelaan, Quelaan of Izalith.'' I told him.

_I would eat under his roof, I could at least show him some respect in this regard as a host._

He made an instant about-turn to look at me, smiling. ''Pleased to meet you, Miss Quelaan. My name is Jean Colbert, teacher at Tristain's Academy of Magic.'' I smiled too, the wanderer wasn't one to speak much, so I hadn't had the pleasure of hearing my name being pronounced by someone else for a very long time. The sonorities felt foreign to my ears, but I was pleased to hear it anyway.

Colbert went back into the kitchens, less hurried than before, while I smiled crispily looking at his back. I went to a table. Moving a few chairs, I sat on the floor. After eyeing the door, I tried to digest the information I had received.

It felt nice to hear my own name being pronounced by someone else. Yet, dread crept into my heart. The man seemed to be of a great intellectual curiosity. For a scholar like him to not know my homeland, it invited fear and doubts into my heart. How it is possible for a scholar using magic in a way that looked like pyromancy to not know the meaning of the word Izalith?

This place was making me feel extremely uneasy. Had the Fire faded so much that even the meaning of the name of Izalith had been taken into the Dark? Then it wouldn't be long before the Serpents's ambitions came true. If the man even knew half the meaning of the word, he wouldn't have dared to call me by my name, even freely given. He might even have knelt.

This little stunt of giving him my real name made me remember how devious I could be. I would have liked to be treated with proper decorum, but it would have prevented the man from saying my name, which I would have liked to be pronounced. But as Colbert had done so, he didn't know me, which led to a frightening hypothesis explaining my current situation, even if I did hear him pronouncing my name. In fact, I would have prefered to have both proper deference and yet a closeness you could expect from someone you had tried to kill beforehand. But then, I would have been angry to have met a human cheeky enough to act this way despite knowing who I am. The only way to prevent that would I have been if he were a being great enough to make me regret attacking him in the first place, which would have crushed any desire I had to act so friendly. Quite paradoxal. I had trapped myself the moment I had tried to play smart. The concept was droll.

It had been stupid to think so much of something so simple. Had I given him my name out of respect, I wouldn't have to now unknot my own feelings.

What was I thinking of already? Ah yes, information. I chuckled. I have yet to eat and I was already digesting.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

I see.

I should have known when the Knight of Thorns told me the message would take someone elsewhere, that in fact this person could even be sent to a different dimension. I expected to be sent somewhere I was not aware of, but I did not expect his explanation to be so horribly right.

This whole system of elemental magic was confusing me, even after a long conversation about it. Stacking several elements in one spell to increase its power? Humans with natural affinities towards earth, water, wind, or fire allowing them to manipulate these elements? Preposterous. There were too many things I couldn't understand, it was fundamentally against everything I had learned from magic for me to be able to accept it in one night. The only point I could perhaps tolerate was about the willpower of the caster fueling the spell, and even then the term was hazy.

Colbert knew neither the concept of sorcery nor pyromancy. I would have tried to talk about miracles, but if the teacher didn't even know sorcery, it would have been improbable for him to know something about miracles. The fact that the man acted like a child who just found out the existence of a whole new world each time I mentioned something linked to either supernatural arts didn't convince me to continue. The sheer enthusiasm in his whole being was grating me.

I shouldn't find it so strange. The man was acquainted with a shaky magic system and a dubious definition of the origin of energy. My own supernatural craft was a lot more mature. The concept of pyromancy is to nurture a flame with emotions drawn from the soul while sorcery is a way to influence reality through sheer imagination and power of will. Miracles are trickier to explain but in brief, they are prayers powered through beliefs.

I would have to get to know more about their craft. The way Colbert talked about it, it seemed as though the local spellcasters use willpower to explain everything, when he couldn't explain it precisely even with his translation spell. For all I knew, they could use half a dozen different ways to manipulate nature and they wouldn't know the difference.

Fortunately, my attention was mainly focused on the food the teacher brought to me. He came back from the kitchens with a basket and some wine. Nothing grand, fruits and stale bread, nonetheless, it had been one the most fulfilling meals I had ever had. It would fill me for a while. Had I the misfortune of being forced to focus on the conversation in order to forget my hunger, I would have set fire to the whole hall from sheer frustration right away. The worst was that I didn't have any reason to desire his death now since he explained he wasn't Quelana's disciple.

The assassin girl, Tabitha, came back and showed me she could manipulate both wind and water, even blending the two together to form ice projectiles. Ludicrous, but it was happening in front of my eyes. Her shower-and-massage spell was in fact a water-oriented line spell.

After yawning ever so slightly, she went off to bed. I wondered why she was in this hall in the first place. Intelligence gathering I presumed. Thinking about it, I could also question how this emotionally stunted child became Colbert's student.

The mage coughed, drawing my attention.

''Thank you Miss Quelaan, I didn't expect to learn so much in one night.'' He took a sip of his wine. ''To know so much about the topic, are you perhaps a scholar?'' He seemed very happy to talk to one who could be a kindred spirit.

I nodded. ''I would have to thank you too then. I too didn't expect to learn this much tonight.'' I thought about my answer for a second. ''As for me being a scholar, while the statement is correct, it is not the truth.''

''Does it mean you are a scholar without being one, or that you are just scholastic?'' Colbert didn't mind wordplay it seemed, which reminded me how much of a national sport it was back in Vinheim.

''Oh, neither. I just had more opportunities to seek knowledge than most.'' Being as old as I am, it has happened several times that I have spent lifetimes somewhere, only to return elsewhere and realize that an empire had been split up into kingdoms. If I wanted to know how it happened, I had no choice but to seek old records and books. It just happened that I ended up with more knowledge than any human could obtain.

I produced a flame in my hand. ''You will find it hard to imagine, but back in my land, pyromancy is an art only my family wielded.''

''What?'' Said Colbert most intelligently. For once, it wasn't me who was surprised, it pleased me. I now began my history class.

''My family assisted Lord Gwyn during a crusade a long time ago. Impressed by our power, he invited us inside his city of Anor Londo as esteemed guests.'' If I could avoid his questions by not mentioning the Disparity, Lords Souls, and everlasting dragons, all the better for me.

''As our stay in Anor Londo continued, I decided to advance my studies. Before I knew it, I was known as an erudite person.'' Most of the gods were either busy learning how to be worshipped by the humans now that the dragons were gone or looking down on the covenant. For them, the Izalith covenant was nothing more than a witch and her daughters of dubious origin, our brother wasn't born yet, rescued by the good will of the great Lord Gwyn. At that time, even Seath was more civil than them.

Nostalgy filled my heart. It was a long-lost era, one where Seath still cared about the health of his experiments, which was the only reason why I had learned sorcery from him. He became more and more irascible as time flew. The Priscilla scandal made him snap thereafter.

Seeing that I was remembering the past, Colbert continued. ''I see. I would have another question if it doesn't bother you, miss Quelaan.'' I nodded.

''When you attacked me back in the courtyard, was it because you left your family on bad terms?'' He said. I blinked owlishly, stunned by how he came to this conclusion.

''Why would you think such a thing?''

''Well… It is the only reason I could explain why you would try to harm a relative with such fury. You were quite frightening back there.'' He admitted.

His reasoning was so alien to me I had to pause a few seconds to understand it. Once I did, I couldn't help myself, I laughed so much I had to hold my stomach.

''You thought I thought you were a descendant of this Quelana I mentioned and that I was trying to kill you because I had a grudge against her. Brilliant! I did not expect this one.'' I told him, once my laugh ended. To him, magic was innate. He misunderstood and naturally thought pyromancy was an innate skill too, not that I would correct him. I do not want to be pushed to create an eventual army of pyromancers because my tongue was too loose.

I looked at him, sitting there, embarassed, like he was a silly child, which wasn't too far off compared to me. ''Quelana is my younger sister, it would surprise me if you were her child, sir Colbert.''

He perked at this, before laughing nervously. ''Yes, it would surprise me too to have an aunt as young as you are.'' Another misunderstanding. ''Excuse me Miss Quelaan, I shouldn't have made such assumptions.''

I shook my head. ''No. You weren't wrong. We did part ways on bad terms.'' A euphemism. I wanted to groan. I shouldn't have answered. I didn't even need to look at the man to see he was interested.

I had already given a hint, I might as well tell the whole story.

''Us, the Izalith covenant, spent a long time under Lord Gwyn's hospitality, until one day, he asked for our assistance. A huge disaster of supernatural origin appeared, to which he sought our expertise in pyromancy. After several months of work, we created a ritual powerful enough to resolve the situation. Still, it was a dangerous venture.'' I started.

Colbert gasped. He must have heard such stories before.

''Yes.'' I said between my clenched teeth. ''It failed.'' I took a deep breath, trying to not become overly emotional. I have yet to see the sun. ''We were nine. Our mother Quelai, my six sisters, Quelazan, Quelaya, Quelava, Quelaal, Quelaag, Quelana and myself, Quelaan, were in the ritual room, while our little brother Quelon stayed outside as back-up.''

''Our mother, Quelaal and Quelava were engulfed in an instant.'' I breathed slowly, trying to not be overwhelmed by my feelings. ''Quelon tried to seal the room, but he was, transformed.'' I had trouble with the last word. ''Then, Quelazan lost her mind and stayed behind. The four of us remaining fled away.'' I remembered my last days in Izalith, I shivered, remembering the birth of the Bed of Chaos, and the horrors it unleashed upon the world.

''During our flight, due to panic, we split up. Quelaya with Quelana and Quelaag with me. We survived. Still, the two of us did not escape unscathed.'' I looked behind me, looking at my legs. Colbert's eyes widened with understanding.

''Once we ceased to panic, the two of us tried to find our remaining sisters. You were right sir Colbert, we did part on bad terms.'' My voice was nothing but a whisper. The hall was more silent still. The teacher managed to find his words with efforts. ''How?''

''Quelaya was already dead when we found her. And Quelana… She reacted badly when she saw us.'' We scared her. I didn't want to expand on it. Colbert winced, intelligent enough to imagine the circumstances of our encounter.

I hadn't liked telling the story, but I felt like I released some other venom that I didn't know I had kept inside of me. I felt somehow lighter.

But I was so tired now, and the worst of the story was still to come. I didn't want to talk about how I succumbed to weakness trying to help the inhabitants of the Great Swamp, how I pleaded Quelaag to kill me, and how she left me because she couldn't bear her powerlessness or my endless suffering. Then, there was Eingyi. It felt so gloomy.

''Things happened.'' I resumed. ''I fell sick, Quelaag died, a wanderer saved me and I landed here.'' I said. I didn't want to talk anymore. The wanderer killed Quelaag, found me, obliterated my prison, and healed me with the remnants of the souls of several hundred undead. A detail I wouldn't tell the mage.

The silence was heavy in the hall as I ended my story.

''All my condolences to your family, Miss Quelaan.'' Said Colbert. Well, there wasn't much else he could say after that.

''I am tired of speaking Sir Colbert. Could you let me just listen to you for a while please?'' I asked politely, but wearily.

Colbert was more than happy to indulge me. I asked him details about our current location. It wouldn't do well for me to not know the lands I invaded. I also wanted to know more about this Tiffania Westwood, to whom I was greatly indebted. Colbert answered all these questions understandingly.

Apparently, I had been summoned to a castle in the city of Aquileia. Said city being located in the state of Romalia, in the continent of Halkeginia. Romalia is a theocracy, with as ruler the Pope, the spokesperson of who I assumed was the local god, taking care of mundane human issues. The other nations of Halkeginia, Gallia, Tristain, Albion and Germania are all magocratic kingdoms with a nobility composed of mages.

Brimir is worshipped in these lands. I didn't know the name, which was once again strange, but then again, it could somehow be linked to the translation sorcery Colbert cast. It wouldn't be strange if it had trouble translating names, or local pronounciations. It might also be just a misunderstanding about the name of the divinity. Brimir's true name might as well be Brom, Brémir, or Braham. I remember meeting a recluse god in Anor Londo named Brunihr. His main priest being near, I would just ask him.

I had been summoned by Tiffania Westwood, one of Colbert's students, after she asked him to teach her the ritual to accomplish it. Apparently, she started her studies several months ago at Tristain's Academy of Magic, a school dedicated to teaching the magical arts, up in the north of our current location, and where Colbert was usually teaching. A number of students had been invited by their queen, Henrietta of Tristain, to follow her for her diplomatic visit in Romalia, and Colbert, as one of their teachers proposed to supervise them. Tiffania Westwood was part of the number of invited students.

She was apparently an unusual student, coming from the country of Albion, which had recently suffered several political strifes, even further in the north than Tristain. She also had a parent coming from a foreign ethnic group named elves, which were extremely uncommon.

The girl, because of her heritage, only had few friends at Tristain. One of them being the chevalier Saito de Hiraga, or Saito Hiraga, quite an unusual name. Her other friend was one Louise de La Vallière, second in succession to the Crown of Tristain and third daughter of the La Vallière family. There were several surprising elements there. First, that for such a discrete girl, she had quite an important character as a friend. Second, that there were obviously peculiar circumstances for a third daughter to be the current heiress of a kingdom.

''Miss Quelaan, you already know them. You have met both tonight.'' Said Colbert good-naturedly. Already? I thought about it for a second before I froze.

''Sir Colbert, are you talking about the boy with a cape and the pink-haired child wearing the same uniform as my summoner?'' I asked, somewhat anxious. He nodded and I winced. The first thing I had done coming here was to try to harm two of my creditor's friends, which could as well be translated into all of her friends with her background. I would have to hope an apology would be enough to be forgiven. Still, there was something strange there.

''Shouldn't a person of La Vallière's stature have bodyguards?'' I was quite worried by the lack of security around here. Even a politically ignored member of a royal family is supposed to have some kind of constant protection. It was unnerving, not that I actually complained.

The teacher reassured me. ''Miss La Vallière already has Saito as bodyguard, he is her familiar after all.'' I rose an eyebrow to that.

''Is it common to have humans as familiar?'' I asked, while looking at the entrance for a short moment. I wondered if the boy, no, young man, he was granted a title of chevalier I recalled, was paid for his work or if he was just de facto in slavery.

Colbert shook his head. ''No, in fact, it is almost unprecedented as far as I know. I looked into it after Miss La Vallière summoned him. There must be a link between Saito's summoning and yours.''

Not knowing the details of this summoning ritual, I would have been hard-pressed to give the right answer. I didn't even know if I could be considered a human being. Still, I was sure about something.

''If there is any link, it wouldn't come from the summoned beings, but from the summoning mages.'' I said.

''Why do you think so?'' Colbert seemed to have reached the same conclusion, but he wanted to know my reasoning. It must have been too obvious for him to understand it. Well, being blind to the world is a common occurence for intellectuals.

''Because I am much more outstanding than this Saito. I do not dare to think you would teach your students a spell so random as to make them able to summon either a boy or a being as exceptional as I.'' I explained.

Colbert did not expect this statement it seemed, as he choked himself in his own breath. ''Well, it is a laudatory argument.'' Not that much, he must have been confused. _Wasn't my statement obvious?_

''Maybe Tiffania Westwood and this La Vallière would know something about it.''

''It might be possible.'' Colbert admitted, his tone somehow suspicious. ''We can always ask them later. They are sleeping now.''

A silence filled the hall.

I eyed the entrance. ''I wonder, what time is it please?''

''Oh. We have spent the whole night talking, the dawn should be near.'' Hearing his statement made me feel restless. Colbert saw it.

''Would you like to go outside, Miss Quelaan?'' He said.

It made me sigh. ''Am I so obvious Sir Colbert?''

''I have seen you watching the door since I you brought inside. I suspected you were waiting for something.'' The man could be quite sharp when he wanted to. ''I am a little tired, but I wouldn't mind watching the sunrise if it is in such excellent company.'' He smiled at me quite handsomely. He had most probably seduced quite a few ladies in his prime.

''Oh my.'' I played the courtesan. ''I will take up on your invitation with pleasure, Sir Colbert.'' I answered courteously, before bantering. ''But do you not fear that others might feel it is inappropriate for a grown man such as yourself to watch the moon, waiting for sunrise, with a young woman such as myself?''

''Others will scorn me anyway for talking all night to a naked beauty as fair as you. At least, watching the moons in the sky would distract me from your comeliness.'' He said good-naturedly. He wasn't deprived of a silver tongue, and my previous joke gave him more leeway to banter with me. Ah, waiting for the morrow, looking at the moons…

I froze.

The moons in the sky?

I had a cold feeling coming from deep inside my guts. It is not supposed to happen. My guts are the core of my kiln, a place where infernos are kindled. It is not supposed to be frozen by an intuition. The last time that happened, was when Mother chastised me after I pranked Quelaya. It took me eleven centuries before daring to do it again.

''Moons in the sky?'' I muttered, panicked. ''There is only one moon in the sky. Why would there be anything else than the moon in the sky?'' I tried to laugh, but it came out wrong.

Jean Colbert was confused.

_A joke, please, let it be a bad joke from your vindicative streak, I beg of you._

''No Miss Quelaan, there are of course two moons in the sky.'' His sentence was direct and innocent as if he spoke to a child. It came to my ears with the soft touch and the friendliness of an undead dragon, the meaning of the sentence as inviting as its breath.

''Explain yourself.'' Hostility oozed out of my lips as I asked him to confirm my fears.

''Maybe it would be easier to show you.'' The man had the nerve to smile. I followed him, barely thinking about the little size of the door and its underlying discrimination towards large individuals.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

We left the tower. Colbert and I must have indeed talked for a long time, for the sky had changed colour. We were at the end of the night, at a time when dawn wouldn't take very long to come.

I gazed at this sky, transfixed by the sight.

There were two orbs, high in the sky. One had a slightly red colour and the other, a smaller one, exulted a green light. They were bigger than the other stars in the sky, and they weren't composed of fire. They looked in fact like huge lands of some cosmic stone so far away they were above the sky.

Theoretically they were, what are called moons.

For a few moments, I stayed still. Colbert, this rascal, smiled gently at my side, but he was now a bit wary that I would lash out at something. I wondered if I would indulge myself in this kind of behaviour now, but it would have been out of character for me. I may have been a little agitated beforehand, but it wasn't as though I was violent by nature. I'm usually a delicate and intelligent figure, I had just been somewhat under the weather.

_A bit under the weather…_. I made up my mind. I would laugh.

Starting low, I chuckled demurely, before cachinnating as if I had heard the best joke this side of the millenium, in fact it was the unique one I had heard in this period of time. I could hear my voice booming, echoing through the cut stone-paved courtyard, if no-one heard the sound from the explosion of fire I had caused earlier, now they certainly would. It was extremely thoughtless of me, but oh so cathartic. I stopped only when I had completely lost my breath.

''Would you like to share the joke?'' Jean Colbert asked me at my side, less wary than before my laugh.

''It is the irony, the irony of this situation, which is so huge and so obviously simple I'm not sure I completely paid homage to it with a laugh as discrete as mine.'' I explained, doing my best to not giggle again. The dear teacher let me continue.

''It was my hope to find something familiar from my previous life to hold on to. As you must have understood, I have lost much. My life has changed so quickly I couldn't acknowledge what has happened. It was my hope that the sight of the sun would help me, by the fact the world itself is still the same. Even when everything else has changed.'' A sad smile was plastered on my face as I spoke.

''Unfortunately, during the darkest hours of my life, I was trapped in a bottomless pit, with as skyline nothing more than earth, roots, and rocks. It was as my death came closer and I began to let myself fall into despair that Tiffania Westwood's plea came to me. A chance to live on, in another place.''

''Here is the irony.'' I concluded here. I had talked much, it must have been because I had missed hearing my voice for so long. Story-telling seemed to be a good hobby to adopt then. I certainly did not lack content to turn into epic stories.

''You wanted to see the sun, Miss Quelaan, this is why you purposely accepted the summoning, but in fact, you didn't seek the sun, but the familiarity it would bring to you.'' Colbert explained with his own words. ''The irony here is that by seeking to fulfill your wish, you betrayed your deep down desire, from which it sprang.''

At least, I didn't have to explain everything. ''Exactly. You are used to having your two moons, but I have always been used to having only one moon in the sky. Even the stars's position are foreign to me.''

Colbert pondered on something. ''Is the fact that you were alone underground for such a long time the reason that you do not mind being naked now?''

I thought it was obvious. ''The reason why I feel no embarrassment is because I am kind enough to let you admire me.'' Oddly enough, he seemed surprised by my answer.

''Pardon me?''

I hadn't felt a cold wind on my skin for a very long time as he had deduced, thus I greatly appreciated the feeling now. To be embarrased about being naked while I was happy about feeling the breath of wind on my skin was alien to me. It would also be a shame to hide my beauty to the world.

I ignored the teacher and watched the moons, thinking. ''One exults a red light, and the other a green one. Sir Colbert, am I right when I fear that the sun you are used to burns blue?''

He shook his head. ''Don't let it disturb you. The sun burns as the brightest star in the sky with the colour of the hottest flames. You needn't to worry about that, except of course if you are used to a sun burning purple.''

''Thank Gwyn for this blessing.'' I sighed in relief. ''At least, I know the limits of Tiffania Westwood's cruelty.''

Again, I took the mage by surprise. I must have a vindicative streak of my own, as I took great pleasure from it. ''Miss Westwood's cruelty? I think you are mistaken Miss Quelaan, Miss Westwood is one of the most shy and gentle students I have ever had.''

I rose an eyebrow at that. ''Being gentle has nothing to do with kindness or cruelty, as much as being polite doesn't mean you are respectful. And to have summoned me in those circumstances, only a most cruel person would have done it.'' I explained.

''The summoning ritual is using the mage's willpower and his affinity, or a reagent to summon the most appropriate familiar for him or her. Miss Westwood is not at fault since she had no way of knowing your circumstances.'' Told Colbert, doing his best to protect his student.

''From what you have told me, I am an unusual summoning, yet Tiffania Westwood didn't use any kind of reagent. I wasn't chosen because of her affinity, for I have myself none despite my skill in pyromancy. And as for willpower, it is an ambiguous term. It can be either her sheer potential to high-level spells or something else from her mind.'' It was strange discussing a foreign supernatural system, but I managed through following the main ideas. ''If the reason she summoned me specifically sprang from her mind, I might be right.''

''Even if it were true, it is not a reason to believe Miss Westwood would wrong you purposely.'' Jean complained, trying to defend the girl. I smiled, he was so young and straight-laced.

''Sir Colbert, you misunderstood me. I never said that Tiffania Westwood wronged me. I was saying she was cruel.'' It was fun to play with the man. ''And anyway, had I known about the summoning, I think I would have still accepted.''

''I have more and more trouble understanding you, Miss Quelaan.'' I suspected the man was starting to be weary of me. It was understandable. I would not ask of a human to understand the workings of my mind. The uniqueness of my brilliance would prevent anyone from grasping anything but a shard of my character.

So once again, I had to explain myself. Colbert couldn't possibly have a good understanding of my circumstances when I withheld information from him.

''I do not want to be unhappy, and I want to see the sun.'' I said, watching the horizon. I already saw light being reflected in the clouds above my head. The sun would not take long to come. ''It is not that I want to feel its warmth, if I wanted not to be cold, I could just surround myself in my own flame, I am skilled enough to do it.''

''Back in the land of Lordran, where I came from, Lord Gwyn's symbol was the sun high in the sky.'' I explained. ''It is his symbol, and Lord Gwyn is its avatar. By seeking the sun, I am seeking to be closer to Lord Gwyn, and to relate to him.''

Thankfully, Colbert learned to say nothing while I was telling a story. He might have made a religious inquiry otherwise. As I spoke, I walked into the middle of the courtyard, followed by Colbert.

''Before departing Lordran to come here, I learned that Gwyn, after the failure of the covenant, sacrificed himself in order to save the land. He willingly went to the core of the world to burn and save the world from falling into darkness.''

I took a deep breath.

''I want to feel the warmth of the sunlight in order to relate with Gwyn, who is feeling right now that same heat, a hundred thousand fold more intensely.'' I said. Colbert was listening to me, transfixed. ''Do you know, Sir Colbert, what I feel when I think about Gwyn, burning in the hottest of the flames in the core of the world?''

He stuttered. ''I do not know.'' I chuckled at his answer.

''What I feel is, sheer and utter glee.'' I mouthed the words like they were a most delicious delicacy.

Jean's eyes widened in horror. ''What?!''

''Yes. When I think of the old coot, trying to scream as his blazing beard burns his lips and his tongue turns to ashes as he is forced to breath through the flames, to the pain and the panic, I cannot help but to feel elated.'' Even thinking about it was making me smile with fondness. Gwyn's face as he realized that he could not escape, that his struggle was futile, before becoming indifferent to the agony devoring his body and losing all hope of one day being rescued...

''But, but. Why?!'' It seems Colbert couldn't understand.

''Why what? Why do I feel so good about Gwyn's suffering? It is because I despise him.'' As far as I knew, hatred was one of the emotions humans could easily understand. Hatred is not something too complicated for a human mind.

''But from your story, Gwyn is the one who invited you in his city of Anor Londo, why would you want the death of your patron?'' It seemed that indeed, the teacher was sincerely confused. How odd.

''I have never said our covenant appreciated being in Anor Londo, nor that we had a choice about being under Gwyn's rule.'' I was playing with words once again. ''He was also the one who pushed us to try something as desperate as the ritual for the Birth of the Second Flame. Even had we succeeded, we would have lost much. In short, I blame Gwyn for the destruction of my family.''

Colbert seemed to sag at my side as if he didn't know what to say. Not that I would have listened to him anyway. I was watching the coming of the dawn, when I suddenly had an idea.

''Sir Colbert, could you lend me your staff please?'' I asked. The man was quite nervous after my declaration of hatred. ''I would like to have some privacy, I will need to cast some sorceries.'' I explained.

Hearing that, the teacher eagerly lent me his staff. More large than those I was used to, but I couldn't have expected an archtree's branch from the Age of Ancients. _I'm missing my old one…_ As I thought, it was possible to use his staff as catalyst. I cast an improved version of Hush in order to silence the noises I made. I gave the catalyst back. ''Thank you.'' I said.

Colbert analysed it quickly. ''It is some kind of ward. You mentioned privacy, it must silence sounds, is that it?'' I nodded. The man could be quite slow with people, but was very quick when it came to spells.

I saw guards coming towards us. After all this time, I was beginning to think there weren't any sentinels around.

''Sir Colbert, there are guards coming here. Could you amuse them without distracting me please?'' I would have prefered to make it an order, but I didn't have any authority over him.

''Are you sure you do not want to...'' ''Sir Colbert.'' I interrupted him, my tone cold and sharp. ''My desire is minutes away from appearing in front of my eyes and I am rested. Are you sure you want to displease me?'' I did not say I would hurt him, literally at least.

The teacher seemed to think for a few seconds before telling me. ''Good morning then, Miss Quelaan.'' He then left towards the guards. I was grateful to him.

I looked into the now bright horizon.

My plan had been first to watch the sun. I then expected to be killed by something as I was distracted. Tiffania Westwood altered my plan by summoning me for an unlimited period of time, but my goal remained the same.

Before I could do anything, I would have to put aside my anger against Gwyn. I liked the idea of him suffering because I couldn't do anything to hurt him myself. It wasn't only I who felt like this, but the whole covenant. Even our Mother, the Witch of Izalith, couldn't fight on equal grounds against him. It was why we hated him and were forced to bend our knees to him. It was the knowledge of our powerlessness.

I hate Gwyn. I despise how weak I am compared to him. I also dislike being so little as to feel joy because Gwyn suffer even without my assistance.

I was indebted to Tiffania Westwood for the opportunity she granted me to come here. Even without the whole adventure in Blighttown, Lordran would have been consumed by the Dark sooner or later. To be rescued beforehand was a boon. To be able to start anew in a land I had never heard of wasn't something bad. It may even make me happy for a time.

Happiness would never be something I took for granted after the Bed of Chaos disaster. For a young girl to have given me such a chance was a miracle I wouldn't dare to tarnish because of my own shortcomings. I would give the girl a lifetime of my loyalty as her familiar for this opportunity. And if I were to dedicate myself to this goal, I would have to first deal with my own issues.

The issues being my guilt, my bitterness, my frustration and my hatred towards Gwyn. Thankfully, all of this could be redirected back to the sun, of which I felt now the light on my skin.

I would empty myself of all these feelings bottled inside my heart, and burn them away in an allegorical pyre. I would redirect all my aggression towards Gwyn, towards the sun, and then burn it away.

All I had to do now was to imagine Gwyn's demise as the sun rise.

Gwyn had already burned for a thousand years. He had suffered alongside me for such a long time. The wanderer wouldl fight the Lord of Sunlight when he couldn't use the slightest spark of his authority, when he was old, crippled, blind, numb to pain and to emotions, when he would have lost all notion of time, when his mind had been totally consumed by the First Flame and would only be able to fight through mechanical reflexes he had last used back in the Age of Ancients.

Oh, even then Gwyn would be too strong for the wanderer to kill him right away. But the wanderer will not be defeated even if he dies. He would continue to harry Gwyn, again and again, each time more prepared than before, while Gwyn would only continue to burn, weaker and weaker until he is unable to protect himself.

It felt so right at that moment. The wanderer's blade, bathed in the blood of my dead sisters, would torment Gwyn until he couldn't even stand on his own and then, victorious, stab his old, withered heart.

To focus all my hatred and my frustration towards the sun in order to burn it away, it was so cathartic. I felt my emotions going through my personal kiln before leaving my body in a breath of fire. I was purged in my own flames as I contemplated the sun, prayed to the sun.

I allowed myself a smile. I remembered Gwyn's firstborn and his jolly character, before his father exiled him and sealed his memories away. To pray as he had seemed appropriate now.

I extended my arms towards the sky.

Praise the sun!

**End of the**** chapter**

**Author's note:**

**I am proud to show you the result of several months of work, my first fanfiction. After spending my whole year on this website, I decided to write something in order to share my gratitude with fanfiction. net, where the line between the reader and the writer is hazy.**

**I do not know if I will continue to write this fanfiction, it would take me at least a month before I start to write anything decent. I also have another idea, which will bring me to write in another universe.**

**Let it be known that English is not my main language, and that I am French.**


	2. Meeting people, one after another

**Appearance of the White Lady**

**Chapter 2: Meeting people, one after another**

Bathing among the flames, I watched the sun, high in the sky.

I was quite satisfied being there, channeling my pent-up feelings into fire. Being surrounded by the heat of the flames was refreshing. Like a piece of scrap in a furnace, I felt my impurities melting away. Feeling less and less human, it was now much easier thinking about Old Gwyn without associating unpleasant thoughts to him. My distaste of the god stemmed now more from a pragmatic outlook and old habits rather than fear and emotional disorder. I was now less moody and introspective.

This mind cleansing ability was one of the reasons why I loved pyromancy. If I couldn't purge myself of the resentments I found myself catching over the years it would be much harder staying happy. I thought about the covenant, before smiling. I was now feeling nostalgia instead of overwhelming sadness. Much better.

I wondered if, had we shared pyromancy with Seath maybe he wouldn't have became mad. Then I thought about the scaleless dragon burning down the Archives in a fit of rage. I remembered now why it would have been a bad idea. I spent too much time there to see the books burning because a short-tempered dragon was unhappy with his epidermis.

I felt someone coming closer.

Turning my head, I saw through the flames a fair-headed young girl. Tiffania Weswood, coming from the courtyard in my direction, looking quite worried. I had to admit her breasts's motions were startling as she walked. I was already feeling excitement blooming inside my chest. Extinguishing my flames, I serenely went towards my creditor.

I stopped two meters in front of her to watch the emotions painted on her face. First she was surprised, then relieved. She must have feared I burnt myself. Her innocence was charming, though not as much as the flush on her face after she herself observed my figure. I noticed her inhumanly long ears moved as her facial traits shifted. I waited for my creditor to start the conversation but it seemed she was still feeling too awkward around me. I so took the initiative.

''Greeting, I am Quelaan of Izalith, Daughter of Chaos. I answered your summoning.'' I said solemnly, before adding in a lighter tone. ''A pleasure to meet you.'' I thought about teasing her about the kiss but it would have been unwise. The girl was already having trouble about what she wanted to say.

''Greeting, my name is Tiffania Westwood.'' Her voice was softer than mine, and much less confident. I would have to make her understand she is supposed to have the upper hand in our current relationship.

''I see. Due to my circumstances, I was unable to talk to you properly last night. I would like to first thank you for summoning me. And also...'' I touched my chest, where her runes were branded, and bowed. ''I acknowledge you, Tiffania Westwood, as my mistress and offer you my loyalty as a token of my gratitude.'' The girl was startled by my declaration.

''You don't need to do that!'' She exclaimed, before saying more softly. ''You don't have to bow to me.''

''What was then the purpose of thy summoning, Tiffania Westwood?'' I asked, watching her with attention.

''I wanted to help everyone, and I… I also wanted a friend.'' She answered, looking straight into my eyes even though her voice was hesitant, like she was afraid of my judgement. It was curious, for such technically righteous pretexts she was feeling quite guilty. There must be some underlying reason.

I remembered the talk I had with her teacher, Jean Colbert, last night. The girl was quite lonely, being a foreigner in another country, and from a different ethnic group no less. She was friends with this Saito and Louise de La Vallière, but one was the bodyguard of the other. They were supposed to stay together. It would be possible for Tiffania Westwood to be only the friend of one of the two, or to feel like the fifth wheel between them. Her desire was then to have a friend for herself.

I told Tiffania I offered her my loyalty, I wouldn't mind also becoming her friend. Friendship and loyalty can mesh well together and I didn't have any other allegiance binding me, so it was perfect. It would also ease my life to have a friend instead of a mistress.

''Doesn't it bother you?'' Enquired Tiffania, flustered.

''What are you talking about?'' I was almost sure she was thinking about my lower body.

''Aren't you afraid of my ears?'' The young girl said, touching her long appendages. I didn't expect this one.

''Did you just ask a eight-legged spider woman if she was scared by your ears?'' My disbelief was as raw as this statement.

''Yes, formulated like this, it might sound a bit silly.'' The fair girl admitted in her soft-spoken voice. She was smiling at my answer, relieved for some reason.

''If you are concerned about such things, Tiffania Westwood, I would like you to confirm one thing for me.'' I said ominously. The girl nodded seriously, before I brought my head closer to her own.

''Can you tell me the colour of my eyes?''

I think I surprised her since she took a few seconds before answering. ''Red.'' I was spot on then. I forgot to ask Colbert about it last night. I let out a small laugh while I stepped back. She then added. ''Could you call me Tiffania, or Tiffa? I prefer being called this way.''

''If it is what you want Tiffania. Also, you may call me Quelaan.'' My joke succeeded then if the awkwardness of the situation was gone. But maybe I was wrong. My now friend was watching me, somehow awkward. I reminded myself of our circumstances. I had almost killed her and her friends yesterday, it would surprise me if she felt safe near me. If I were to stay with her for a relatively long time, I would have to clear any kind of resentment she could feel towards me.

''I would like to extend an apology about how I almost killed you last night, blowing you to smithereens in a explosion of flames which would have left of you nothing but charred flesh. I was a bit shaken.'' The girl gulped at my gory description. The fact it was true might make it even scarier.

''It's alright. You didn't know where you were and nobody was hurt. And you saved Saito from his fall.'' And Tiffania Westwood forgave me like that. The first thing that went through my mind as I heard this was that she was too nice for her own good. Still, she fidgeted.

''Is there something else wrong?'' I asked. If it wasn't the fact I tried to kill her friends several hours ago, or my number of legs, I wondered why she looked so uncomfortable around me.

''Aren't you cold like this?'' Said Tiffania. Ah, it was about my nudity.

''Clothes wouldn't have survived my adventures.'' I said. I moved in order to let her see the place I was sat before she came. The courtyard was made of regular carved stones, but it was hard to tell after what I have done to the ground. My fire melted the stones together, giving them an otherwise impossibly smooth hegemony. Even the ones which haven't melted emitted a bright red light from the heat. Someone could burn their feet on this ground, even through their boots. I was always fascinated by the appearance of the ground once I burnt it.

''I could lend some of mine, if it doesn't bother you.'' She offered.

''It would very kind of you to do so.'' Seeing her bust size I doubted she could lend me anything important, still it wouldn't do well to turn her down.

I was worrying about the infrastructure's dimension as we walked towards one of the buildings, when a priest came to talk to us.

''Miss Westwood, His Holiness wishes to see you and your familiar as soon as possible. Please follow me.'' He said politely. Tiffania looked at me, quite unsure of herself, I just nodded. I would have liked to spend the day with Tiffania Westwood in order to learn more about her, but it wouldn't reflect well on her if her new vassal disobeyed her right from the start. We followed the man in the direction of the main building.

''It was kind of you to let us talk before joining.'' I said to the priest, to which he responded. ''The summoning ritual is a holy tradition started by the Founder Brimir himself, it is my role as one of his devouts to respect the ritual.'' It would have indeed been a blasphemy to interrupt.

We continued to walk. I was curious why this Pope, or Holiness, would wish to meet my summoner. I was most probably the reason why.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

Now that I paid attention to the environment. I learned a little more about the place I had landed in. I was summoned inside an odd infrastructure. A castle made up of five towers aligned like a pentagon, linked by walls of stone, with in the middle, a sixth and much bigger tower. This tower-like castle was built in the middle of a city most likely, from the sight of other buildings over the walls. The priest led us to the sixth tower at the center, which I named the main building as it was the biggest tower.

The inside of the building was quite large, even if walls had been put inside to make a rectangle-like cathedral inside the circular tower. The end wall of the room looked like the altar of a fanciful place of worship, with a designed symmetrical decoration made up of golden and red gilt, green pillars, with encrusted black, blue, green and orange gems in the wall and assembled in square patterns. The absence of furniture in the room and the riches displayed on the wall gave the impression of a painting crafted through goldsmithery. It made up a very beautiful artistic piece praising the virtue of beauty and wealthiness.

Someone stood in the middle of the cathedral, a handsome man in costly priest robes and holding a staff. Standing behind him was a pretty boy dressed in white and wrapped up in a huge blue cape, he was also wearing a sword at his belt. His Holiness the head priest, and a quite young advisor I presumed. They exulted together a feeling of calm confidence. The fact they obviously stood in the seat of their own influence allowed them to.

This Brimir must have a fancy for pretty blond hair. While the advisor had an elegant blond short cut, the priest had smooth, well-cared, long fair hair, easily reaching the middle of his back. It was quite like I imagined the priest would look. Pious-looking and especially handsome. It wasn't uncommon for a god to choose as his priest a conquest, or in the reverse order if he was pretty, making the priest his conquest. The pretty boy was then either a partner or a concubine.

Who better to worship a god than the one tasting him?

They weren't the only people in the room. On the side, stood this Louise de La Vallière and Saito Hiraga I had met after my summoning. They were standing near a regal and beautiful woman in a white dress and a purple cape, Queen Henrietta of Tristain I suspected. The colour of her hair was very unusual. It was purple, like her cape. There have been individuals through the years who had purple hair back in Lordran, but it was very rare. It was intriguing to see royalty with such colour. Then again, a pink-haired child was also in the room. I also noticed this queen was followed by a sharp-looking swordswoman.

Of course, as I stared they also stared at me. La Vallière and Hiraga were astonished as they admired my beauty, they only saw me covered with mud after all. Their queen was a little surprised, her guard looked at me with her sharp eyes, but the main priest and his advisor continued to smile. The Pope began speaking.

''Now that everyone is here, I can share with you the events that occurred last night.'' The priestly man started. His voice, while kind, was very strong, reaching the other end of the cathedral. ''Thieves infiltrated this castle in order to steal the Founder's Mirror. They were thankfully discovered by Miss La Vallière and her familiar, the chevalier Saito de Hiraga.'' He made a gesture indicating the two of them. I wondered if it was linked to the reason why the boy fell on me. It would surprise me if the boy did anything noteworthy after meeting me.

''Unfortunately, they succeeded in their theft even if we captured one of the culprits.'' The priest sounded somewhat sad, which I thought was strange. I would have expected him to be a little more afraid to feel his god's wrath over the loss of his possessions. Some could be quite creative with their attentions, late at night, with a human to punish.

''While this loss is tragic, there is also reason to rejoice. Miss Westwood also summoned her familiar last night.'' It drew my attention. I watched the priest more carefully, as he walked towards us.

''Let me be the first to offer you my congratulations over the successful summoning of your familiar, Miss Westwood.'' Said the holy man to my summoner, his voice gentle and yet very distinct. He looked at the runes branding my chest. ''Yes. These are indeed the runes of the Lifbrasir, the fourth and last familiar of the Void.''

It was amusing how I could stand naked in front of an official paragon of virtue. Either my appearance was too inhuman for them to consider me as indecent, or the man didn't want to look silly asking someone to lend a shirt to the naked woman in his cathedral.

''I'm sorry, I should have started by the beginning. I am Vittorio Severare, otherwise known as the thirty-second Pope of Romalia. I welcome you, Lifbrasir, into this city of Aquileia.'' The way he said the word 'Lifbrasir' reminded me slightly of the 'Chosen Undead' name. I suspected I was involved in some prophesied event.

''I am Quelaan of Izalith, Daugher of Chaos and of the Witch of Izalith.'' While the title was mine since the Age of Ancients, it seemed to me I was now as much daughter of my mother as daughter of the Flame of Chaos. ''I thank you, son of men, for your welcome.'' I hoped the priest would be quick-witted enough to identify the keywords I used.

''A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Quelaan of Izalith.'' To my great confusion, he didn't react to my name. He then spoke to the whole hall. ''With her arrival, the four familiars of the Founder Brimir have now reappared in Halkeginia, along with the four bearers of the Void. I hope her presence will help us convince King Joseph to join us in our quest to take back the holy land.'' I had to admit that even if I didn't have much an idea of what he was talking about, the man had a gift making others listen to him.

''Your Holiness, while I am happy for Tiffania to have summoned her familiar, I have doubts over King Joseph's willingness to cooperate.'' It was the regal woman who spoke up, her tone worried. ''Your ceremony is in two days, those thieves' timing is too good to be a coincidence. Are you sure they weren't Joseph's agents?''

''Our prisoner is still being interrogated, and so their identity is still unconfirmed, and while circumstances could lead us to believe King Joseph is the culprit, there is nothing confirming his involvement.'' Said the holy man, looking composed and wise. ''Each man is innocent in front of the Founder until proved guilty.''

Still, it seemed this Queen Henrietta was left unsatisfied by the Pope's argument. It wasn't surprising, the priest was hardly concerned by this break in his security. Gods usually choose someone less airheaded to take care of human affairs, but then again, a lot could be forgiven if he was a great lover to offset his lack of skill. Assistants exist for that anyway. He came towards me again, probably to have me help him in the conversation.

''Quelaan of Izalith, I understand the situation might be confusing for you, but will you lend us your assistance in our goal?'' For a priest, he was quite dramatic.

I was wondering for a moment if I should just remind him of who he was before asking me anything, but I was now Tiffania Westwood's familiar. No matter what is the meaning of the word there, I was likely akin to being her vassal. I supposed she wouldn't like it if I was to humiliate a priest in his own cathedral.

''As you said Your Holiness, the situation is still new to me. May I ask you to enlighten me?'' I said, more tactful than my naked appearance could lead to believe. If I was right, this Pope, Holiness, or whatever head priest he was had a flair for dramatics. He would like to repeat the story.

''We seek to take back the holy land. It is the heart of our faith, Founder Brimir's homeland from which we were exiled, six thousand years ago. This loss had been the cause of our misfortune ever since. Our faith and our confidence weakened, and men sought cheap replacements for this lack in our hearts. Here is the origin of all wars in Halkeginia, our insecurity and the envy we feel as we are reminded of this tragedy. Only by reuniting the four bearers of the Founder Brimir's Void will we be able to take back our destined land, and unite Mankind under a single banner. The advent of an era of peace and prosperity for all Halkeginia.''

This priest was charismatic, the sheer sincerity behind his words was awe-inspiring. This Brimir made an excellent choice picking him as spokesman. Had he made a speech about something I believed, he might have convinced me. Only the part of the holy land being Brimir's homeland interested me. It could be Lordran.

But the main reason why I was so cynical was the basis of this request. This priest, with the blessing of his god, was asking my help to offer salvation to his land.

Again.

I laughed, but it wasn't a nice laugh. In the silence of the room, it sounded quite harsh and humourless. Tiffania, who stayed silent by my side, took a step away from me. I didn't think it was only because she was tired of being static. She must have somehow felt my hostility and the contempt I held towards his request.

''Boy.'' I said, with one of the most condescending tone I ever used. ''If you cared to listen to your god when you are on your knees, you should know better than to ask the Izalith covenant to save you.''

It was maybe a little unfair of me. If this god, Brimir, travelled so far as to find a land with two moons, it was entirely possible he didn't talk much about his homeland, and was busy trying to create his own cult. It was totally possible this Vittorio didn't know anything about Lordran.

However, because of that, this man just said one of the few things I didn't think I would hear ever again, and didn't want to. The last time I had tried to save the world it failed horribly and cost me everything I cared for. I had purified myself of this garbage hours ago, and I wasn't about to rush into another situation of this kind. The cosmic irony of leaving a swamp to find myself landing in a quagmire wasn't lost on me as I struggled to not slaughter the pretty blonde in front of me.

There was also the fact that, because of his god's negligence over his studies, the priest didn't know how to react to the arrival of one of his betters. Thankfully, I had other options. Even if his god was neglectful, there was one thing he wouldn't have left out of his main follower's education for its power was shining every day. Gwyn.

Interrupting the pink-haired child, Louise, as she was telling me to respect His Holiness, I ordered the priest. ''In the name of the Lord of Sunlight, I request thee, priest of Brimir, to bring me, Quelaan of Izalith, to thy god, the one known as the Founder Brimir. Comply if thou art still affiliated to the authority of the god of gods, Gwyn.''

The silence in the room was eloquent.

Nobody understood what I was talking about as I locked my glare in the priest's one. Of course, if Brimir had been exiled, he was no longer under Gwyn's authority, but it would at least make the priest realise to who he was speaking. I wasn't glad to talk with a divinity so early after my arrival, but at least it would answer my questions. His priest was looking at me without hostility, but with some kind of compassionate understanding. It was grating me, he knew something I didn't.

''I fear, that I cannot fulfill this request.'' He finally said. ''The Founder Brimir had since long departed this world.''

No, I realised with growing feeling of dread. It wasn't that he knew something I didn't, he was just aware that I wasn't talking about something he knew. It was there I deadpanned. ''You are worshipping a dead god.'' I said, my voice laced with disbelief.

He corrected me. ''While the confusion is not rare among worshippers, the Founder Brimir wasn't a god, he was the first wielder of the Void and the first uncontested leader of Mankind, six thousand years ago.''

For an instant, I had trouble understanding the meaning of the words. Once again, I found myself in front of Jean Colbert, explaining to me with enthusiasm that you can manipulate water and wind to form ice with magic. I wanted to say it was impossible, unbelievable, but this childish hope had been crushed in front of my eyes. Like the two moons in the sky in the fact I had to rely on an old maxim. When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

''You are worshipping a human who died six thousand years ago.'' I blurted out, my head blank of any coherent thought.

...

...

''You heathen!'' I breathed out in frustration.

Why was this place so wrong?

It was utterly ridiculous. I had seen godless cults back in Lordran, but such cults were illegal and thus, usually secret or removed from society. I never thought a cult would be so brazen as to build and use cathedrals in broad daylight. It made as much sense as a cockroach standing on his feet and braving Gwyn to crush him.

I didn't know how to react exactly. Contemplating the situation, I couldn't help but feel like I landed in a wrong place. It reminded me of a joke my sisters played on me before. They created an illusion of Seath and used it to do the laundry in an orphanage and share stories with the children. I was reminded of this sentiment of wrongness as I saw the faces of every person in the room.

Yet, while the destruction of some of my beliefs was awful, it wasn't the worse. The situation also meant a shift in the balance of power to my utter disadvantage. The Pope, who I thought was the local god's toyboy and property manager, was in fact the current ruler of his country, and I, an ancient witch of divine birthright, a penniless immigrant who had now become a schoolgirl's vassal. How the mighty have fallen.

I didn't like it at all. The Pope, who I thought was just a pretty face with a skilled tongue, was in fact a dangerous politician. The change was so major and unexpected it wouldn't have seemed out of place if the priest transformed himself into a shark. That was how his smile seemed to me after this abrupt evolution of my perception.

My heart rose inside my chest, I was feeling emotional due to the sheer absurdity of the situation. I could nod in understanding like a simpleton. I could scream blasphemy like the outraged being I was. I could run, before I killed them all out of survival instinct. Or I could kill them all. The idea of just crying might have tempted me if I had a handkerchief, but I didn't leave Blighttown to blow my nose on my arm. Then again, Tiffania Westwood might have one in her pocket.

As I turned to my new friend to ask her for one, I remembered it wouldn't do well for a first impression to throw a fit. I may have already botched up, I had already presented myself as uncooperative, it would be dangerous to show myself weak-minded. I couldn't allow myself to act weak with my current body, the priestly shark would feast on me.

The Pope's pretty boy, the queen's female bodyguard and Saito Hiraga all put their hand on the hilt of their swords. It wasn't surprising, I presented myself as someone from another faith, potentially instable, and in front of their religious leader. I might as well as leave, lest I make a fool of myself doing anything.

''Tiffania, may I leave the room? I think I will end up doing something regrettable to these heathens if I stay here any longer.'' I asked wearily. She nodded anxiously and I thanked her.

I left the cathedral. I had stones to melt.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

I was sitting on the pavement in the shadow of the tower, ignoring the activity of the morning. I thought about what had happened.

Gods have no influence in this land. Of course, they might be hidden but it would be surprisingly out of character. And thus, I was currently in a land full of egocentric little humans worshipping a six thousand year old skeleton. Might as well worship dust.

I didn't know how I should feel. On one hand, I didn't have to fear gods trying to make a move on me now that the covenant was gone, on the other hand, because gods didn't have any influence here, I too didn't have any.

One of the plans I could have followed would have been to use my status as divinity to become a guest to the local god and use my influence to help Tiffania Westwood. But there weren't any gods here, and without them, I might as well have come to this land as a beggar. No, even a beggar could blow his nose with a semblance of dignity, or have something to hide his genitals. I was adorned of nothing but my confidence. Said confidence waning at a fast pace the more I learned about Halkeginia.

Had I still been humanoid, I wouldn't have had a reason to worry so much, I could always have used my experience and skills to take care of myself, but I was now an eight-legged spider woman. I stood out too much to live among the people, and I couldn't become a hermit if I had to follow Tiffania Westwood. I could see myself living as a woman of humble origin, but not as a penniless eight-legged creature. There would lay the thin line between a supernatural being, and a circus freak. My only option was then to show off some skills to a patron.

Of course, the best patrons being Vittorio Severare, religious leader of Romalia and not just a proxy with a pretty face, and Henrietta of Tristain, queen of said country. Both of which I just called heathens five minutes ago. It was quite embarrassing. Maybe with a bit of luck they would forget about it. This Queen Henrietta seemed acquainted with my summoner.

It was at this moment, that I heard someone talking to me.

''Hi, not too shaken up?'' It was the young man with his sword over his shoulder, the one I saved and almost killed last night. Chevalier Saito de Hiraga. He stood in front of me.

''I am fine enough. And you are?'' I said neutrally.

''Ah yes. My name Hiraga Saito, or Saito Hiraga. A fellow familiar, Gandalfr. And you are Quelaan, is that it?'' He said brightly. His voice was one of a boy who had yet to reach full manhood.

''Quelaan of Izalith, but yes indeed. Of what do you seek to talk?'' The young man had quite a broad choice of topics to approach me with for someone I never spoken to before.

''Well, from your reaction in front of the Pope, I deduced you were from another world too. I thought it would be nice if I shared some stories as your sempai, both as a Void familiar and a dimensional traveler.'' He said, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed.

''Are you from a different world than this Halkeginia?'' It drew my attention.

''Yes. I came from Earth. I was dumbfounded when I saw the two moons in the sky the first time.'' I smiled at this statement. At least, I wasn't alone. Even a being as great as I am would feel reassured with someone to share misfortunes.

''I can share the sentiment.'' I said with empathy. Looking each other in the eyes, we laughed simultaneously. It took us a long moment before our hilarity ended.

''I come from the land of Lordran, I do not think I ever heard of a place named Earth.'' The atmosphere was friendly, it would be a shame to not profit from it.

''Lordran? You aren't from my world then.'' The boy said thoughtfully. ''A piece of advice, the people here, they don't know heliocentrism, so if you complain about the number of moons in the sky, they will just believe you come from a far away land like beyond Rub'al Khali.''

I frowned. ''Heliocentrism? What is it?''

The young man put his head in his hands, literally. ''I forgot. Quelaan, in your world, how technologically developed were you?''

I pondered for a moment, looking around in order to have an accurate scale to compare. ''I do not know these lands, so it would be difficult to compare, but I would say human architecture is at least several decades ahead back in my world.'' Of course, with Anor Londo as inspiration, architects had no choice but to improve themselves.

''I see. You come from another western Middle Age or Renaissance-like country then.'' He said. ''Well, I come from a world five hundred years ahead of this place, and we had since long discovered that the planet is round, and not flat, and that...''

Before he said too much, I yelled. ''Be quiet!''

The youth looked at me, confused. I explained myself. ''I learned yesterday mages can play with nature, and that there was two moons in the sky. Today, I learned humans were worshipping another human, one dead millenas ago. I don't want to hear any other earth-shattering news today.'' I didn't want to imagine the idea that in fact, the ground I am walking could be spheric, even if I already had such suspicions before.

He winced. ''Oh, sorry. Must be hard for you.''

''I will manage.'' I sighed. ''I am more worried about the lack of information I have in this land. I don't want to repeat what happened in the cathedral.'' While I escaped the scene with dignity, it was still quite embarrassing to display my ignorance.

Saito nodded understandingly. ''That too I understand.''

I looked at the young man dubiously. ''I don't think you called their religious leader a heathen in the seat of his own power.''

He awkwardly laughed. ''No, I didn't. I just kissed Queen Henrietta by accident in her throne room.''

''How did you to keep your head on your shoulders then?'' From my experience, the culprit often ended up short of a head in those circumstances.

''She is a nice person.'' Well, it was reassuring for me if she is forgiving. As I thought about it, I noticed that the young knight, Saito, was doing his best to not look in my direction. First, Tiffania, then this Saito. Was I this frightening?

''Do you want me to apologize about the fact I almost cut you in half and burn you before you had the time to die from blood-loss, too?'' I had trouble not groaning.

Saito gulped. ''Do you have to be this graphic?'' This time, he looked straight at me. I answered.

''Not really, but I do it for your own good. If I don't develop, you would otherwise believe I am making a half-hearted apology, or you wouldn't realise how lucky you are that I only half-heartedly tried to kill you.'' Of course, it was itself a hommage to an old memory, the most hilarious failure of a suicide I have ever seen. Not that I wanted to think about those kinds of things now that I thought about it. ''You were feeling uncomfortable, I thought it was because of our encounter last night.''

Surprisingly, the boy's cheeks turned red. ''Well, I was thinking about why you weren't wearing any clothes, and...'' Oh. The boy was still cute enough to turn red and straight at the sight of a pair of breasts. He wasn't unlike Colbert in this aspect.

''My radiance is too great for me to have it hindered by clothes and I am not so cruel as to prevent the world from admiring me. Thus, if you want to contemplate me, do so.'' It was a better excuse than a total lack of clothing in my possession. If Saito was anything like Jean Colbert, he would back down, acting like a decent human being, and...

''I can? Seriously?!'' He shouted, eagerly looking at me like a piece of meat, obscenely salivating.

...Or he would act like the perverted boy he is. Well, it was an insight on his personality. ''I'm wounded. Haven't you said you wanted to share your experiences of this land with me?'' I said coyly.

He snapped out of his erotic fantaisies. ''Oh, yes.'' The youth seemed conflicted. He first took a pose giving him a thoughtful air, before dramatically holding his head, rambling about what to do. After a few moments of internal conflict, he stripped himself of his cape before handing it to me. First surprised from the contrast of behaviour, I took the garment and tied it around my chest and thanked him.

I wasn't so indecent anymore at least.

Saito sat next to me, and spoke. ''Well, it started after I took back my laptop from the technician. I had trouble downloading an eroge on my laptop and someone told me to delete System32. Never understood why it crashed. Then a wild green portal appeared out of nowhere, and I was kissed by a Harry Potter student. First thing I knew was that I had now a tattoo on my hand.'' He showed me his left hand, where runes quite similar to my own were inscribed. ''Then, I learned I was now Louise's familiar. I beat Guiche because he was an arse to Siesta. Then Mott, and then Fouquet.'' I think it would have been very informative, only had Saito been more focused on the content.

He blinked. ''Wow, it's been a while now, already a year that I've lived in Halkeginia.'' His tone was nostalgic. He seemed more absorbed in his memories than interested in sharing them.

It took me a while, but I managed to squeeze out a lot from him.

I first learned that I had a far more pleasant summoner than Saito. His pink-haired child, Louise, was either temperamental or insane if I believe his story about how he had been tied up to a rope linked to the top of a tower only to be used as practice target for magical blasts of varying power because of a festering rivalry between her and another girl.

His life since he landed in Halkeginia was utterly ridiculous, taken straight from a legend, or a tale from some drunken peasant. It was often hard to see the difference. First fighting gloating nobles mistreating hard-working second class citizens, he then hunted a famous thief fighting with giant construction made of earth, surviving only thanks to a sentient blade which somehow reached awareness and a powerful technologically advanced weapon from his homeworld. His adventures became only more fantastic. Seeking the prince of Albion, Wales, in the middle of a losing civil war happening in his flying country, escorted by his mistress's fiancee, Wardes, only for him to betray everyone by backstabbing the prince during his wedding with Louise, who was subject to a mind controlling device. Their fight was concluded in the sky, when Saito slayed the traitor with some kind of mechanic bird spitting metal. It was without mentioning the Void spell the girl used to obliterate a fleet of flying vessels thereafter. It was an outlandish tale.

Love potions, spirit incarnating an aspect of nature, romance between a young man, a maid and their noble mistress, spies, sexually exotic inn-owners, corrupt nobles. Saito saw everything. Then, a war concluded by a one-man stand against a seventy thousand strong army. I was curious about that.

"How many did you slay during this battle?'' I asked, curious to see if he beated my own record.

''During Saxe-Gotha? I don't know. I think I have taken out around two hundred fifty guys, why?'' He answered. He was confused when I gave him a disappointed look. He may have felt offended since he shouted ''What?''

''Saito,'' I told, admonishing him. ''If you are reckless enough to dare fight alone against an army, you are supposed to slaughter at least a thousand men. Otherwise, it is not a one-man stand, but a fool charging in a wall, not unlike a moth going to a flame.''

He gave me a deadpan look. ''And how many would you have defeated, you?'' I smiled maliciously, before whispering in his ear.

''Over nine thousand.''

He looked at me with a very weird look but he said nothing, and continued his story. Thankfully, it was the part I was waiting for. Tiffania Westwood's appearance.

I didn't expect my foresight to be so accurate when I thought she was too nice for her own good. Leader of a village of orphans in the middle of a civil war, she rescued a wounded swordsman and used a heirloom belonging to her dead mother to heal him. She was lucky Saito wasn't a bandit. It was then I learned she wasn't as harmless as I thought. Somehow, using Void magic, Tiffania was able to modify the memories of several armed outlaws, making them forget about her and her Westwood Village. After some other adventures including meeting another familiar of the Void, followed by saving a friend who was in fact the princess of Gallia and a fight against an elf, Tiffania went to Tristain's Academy of Magic. Her orphans were sent to an orphanage in the same country.

I think he did something during her days in their academy, for he seemed quite prompt to leave this part out.

It was all of this which brought us to this current situation. Queen Henrietta of Tristain invited several students to come to Romalia, including Louise de La Vallière and Tiffania, two bearers of the Void. The day before today, the high priest had shared his knowledge of the Void. Only four wielders of the Void existed at one time, all coming from the bloodline of their messiah, Brimir, and each with a familiar using distinct abilities.

Louise de La Vallière, came from a cadet branch of the Royal Family of Tristain. She has the familiar Gandalfr, the left arm of God, with the ability to use any weapon. Her familiar is Saito Hiraga, or Hiraga Saito, whichever.

Vittorio Severare, the thirty-second Pope of Romania has, as familiar of the Void, Julio Cesare, the young man who was behind him at the cathedral. His runes are those of the Windalfr, the right arm of God, having a dominion over animals.

Joseph of Gallia, King of Gallia, in the possession of Myoznitnirn, the familiar who has the power to use any magical item. His familiar is a woman named Sheffield.

And finally, Tiffania Westwood, daughter of the Archduke of Albion and of an elf. She owns the last familiar of the Void, Lifbrasir, the heart of God, whose power is still unclear. It is I, Quelaan of Izalith, who assume this role.

''Then,'' I said, in order to fully understand the situation. ''this Pope, Severare, told you to help him for the good of Halkeginia since he needs the power of the four bearers of this Void element in order to conquer the holy land. He intends to use this power to scare the elves into making them give back a holy land without casualty.''

''Yes.'' Saito confirmed.

''So, you are currently trying to find a way to negotiate with the last member of this legendary quatuor, King Joseph, even if there is bad blood between the two of you.''

''Yes, too.''

''And Tiffania Westwood is in fact a bastard child, the last scion of the house of Tudor, the Royal Family of Albion.''

''Yes, something like this. I was surprised about it.'' The boy said. ''I think Queen Henrietta is also her cousin.''

This wealth of information was less disturbing than I thought, in fact. It wasn't the first time I had a crash course over a land's current political situation. While some of Saito's adventures were ludicrous, I have seen and done worse in my own time. At least, he hadn't bothered me with his love life. It was obvious the boy cared about the Louise he mentioned.

Vittorio Severare of Romalia, Henrietta of Tristain, Joseph of Gallia, Albretch the Third of Germania, the Void, Albion, the Holy Land, elves. I would have to keep that in mind. I also didn't expect Tiffania Westwood to be a fitz, I would have bet she was an orphan or a daughter of some small nobility. Not that I minded.

A long silence settled between us, as we thought about all this information. Thirsty from speaking, Saito and I went to a terrace, annexe to the oddly-shaped place of worship we were sitting before. Since it wasn't noon yet, there weren't many people around, the boy only had to ask a table as guest of the Pope and we could talk with some bread and cheese and water.

While I thought about the mine of information I had obtained, Saito just remembered his adventures. The youth, while not stupid, was quite simple, it wouldn't be surprising if he wasn't the kind to reflect much on his actions. To talk about himself must have put him in an introspective mood.

Saito was the one who broke the silence, deeply sighing. ''Quelaan, did you have a home before Tiffa summoned you?'' He wondered, nostalgic.

I remembered the covenant's fortress in Izalith. Even if I didn't live there very long compared to other places, it was the closest I had to a home. I had helped build it, and the covenant would always go back there at one time or another. The fact nobody else could invade it without destroying an army of fire-breathing statues made it very private, and the heat didn't bother anyone in the covenant. The most reassuring feature about it was the fact I knew it wouldn't fall through the passage of time. I could always go back there without fearing the disappointment I would feel if I went back only to witness ruins. Thinking about it, I would probably no longer go back there even if I could. The Bed of Chaos haunted my memories of the place. It left a bitter taste in my mouth.

''Yes, I had a home back in Lordran, but it had been deserted, overrunned by vermin. This is why I am so grateful to Tiffania for summoning me.'' I eyed Saito, studying him. ''Do you have someone waiting for you back in your world?''

He gloomy nodded. ''I told Louise I was an orphan, but I have my parents back on Earth. Must be a year now that I disappeared. I was wondering what they were doing now.'' I could understand this feeling, even if my relationship with Quelana was probably more complicated than the one he had with his own family. Touching the hilt of Quelaag's Furysword in my back, I reminded myself that I had at least a memento.

Seeing as the atmosphere became quite uncomfortable, Saito talked about something else. ''Oh, Quelaan. There was something else I was thinking of. Back in the cathedral, why did you call his Holiness 'boy', you aren't that much older than him, right?''

I smirked. A perfect topic to make him think about something else. ''I am older than I look. Tell me Saito, how old do I look for you?'' Seeing him gulp in fear at the question, I added. ''I am not sensitive about it. Don't worry.'' While he seemed to calm down, he was still a little nervous.

''I don't know. I would say, something between eighteen and twenty-five?'' He ended his sentence in question, unsure of himself, carefully giving a wide margin. I looked around, watching the buildings.

''I told you I was older than my appearance suggests. For me, both you and this priest are boys. Even these towers are young compared to me.'' The buildings around were at least sixty years old.

Saito smiled awkwardly. ''Well, at least I know you are younger than Derflinger.'' I shook my head to that, refuting his statement. ''Derf is a six thousand year old sword.'' He reminded me.

''You already told me this trait of your sword, while it is a mind-boggling longevity for a weapon, I am afraid it is irrelevant.'' I explained.

''Could you explain how it is irrelevant, then?'' Finally, Saito gave me one dubious glare. I was quite enjoying the sight. I have sent him so much of those when he told me his summoner managed to destroy a fifty meters tall metallic giant with the energy provided by the jealously she felt when the classmate they just saved kissed him in front of her.

''It is irrelevant, because I was there when iron was yet to exist.'' I claimed, as I remembered the Age of Ancients. ''I existed before Mankind learned to use the heat of the flame to bend nature to their will. I was there, nourishing the fires of the first foundry humans ever created, when they tried to craft what would later become tools and weapons. Therefore, I am older than the concept of 'steel', 'weapon' and 'sword'. I am the patron saint of craft work.'' Pride and amusement were evident in my voice as I spoke. ''I am older than dirt.''

I loved those kind of dramatic speeches only I could claim with legitimacy. They had an innate capacity to flabbergast humans. The way Saito wrinkled his brows and massaged his temples, trying to understand what I just said was hilarious.

''That's quite a claim there, missy.'' However, it wasn't him who tried to refute me. It was a new voice, gruffly and informal. It came from Saito's shoulder.

''I suppose you must be Derflinger, the sword which somehow attained awareness. Compared to what your wielder has told me, it's not that far-fetched.'' I have to admit the weapon intrigued me, especially how it was crafted and if it was possible to imitate the procedure.

The sword retorted. ''Well, I admit that Partner's life is somewhat funny, but you don't look like an old maid, so I'm a bit dubious. Lucky for you, I know a way you can back your words. You want to try?''

I was quite curious to see if the sword had some special abilities. ''Well, I didn't lie, I have no reason to back down.''

Somehow, even through the rigidity of the metal, I felt Derflinger smirking. ''Sure! A couple fornicates in the forest at night, what...'' The sword couldn't finish the sentence as Saito spat the water he was drinking out of his mouth. ''Derf'! Don't start your dirty jokes now!'' The boy was embarassed now.

During a moment, I didn't understand what he was talking about. But when, in a flash of clarity, I did, I understood Derflinger's brilliance and my face turned into a most deviant expression of glee and debauchery. ''Dear! You have been eating grass for the past fifteen minutes!'' I cried out, throwing away the demureness of my voice, and speaking like a bawdy waitress. To Derflinger's greatest joy it seemed, as he guffawed.

Saito couldn't comprehend what happened for a few seconds, before turning livid. ''Oh no. You are like Derf'.''

I shrugged, unapologetic, doing my best to not laugh in his face. ''If there is one thing you can learn and share, no matter the era, it is how to talk dirty. It takes a very long time before one could hope to understand its refinement.''

''You should listen to the lady, Partner. Only someone as sharp as me could know this many jokes! Doesn't mean she knows as much as she believes. I've to test her knowledge before being sure of her age. Could've been luck the first time.'' Said the sword, happy to take up a challenge.

I scoffed to that. ''Test me? Nonsense, it is I who will test you. Have you ever heard of sentient six thousand years old sword? It is clear you are just a sentient and confused piece of metal. You shouldn't be older than forty.'' I was having fun too. It wasn't every day I could defy a sword in a battle of words and wits. I took the initiative. ''Before leaving to war, a knight entrusted his wife's chastity belt key to his squire...''

''Weak!'' Spat the sword, somehow. ''The squire came back and told him it was the wrong key. A better one. A bored king organized a contest to see his kingdom's mightiest weapons..''

This one had several variations, but they all stayed the same. Putting the palm of my hand over my heart, as if I prepared myself to sing an anthem, I said. ''Fina save the Queen.''

''Fina? A goddess, something like that? Well, that's the idea. Another one, another one.'' Muttered the sword.

Saito, who had stayed still the time to recover from his shock, finally spoke. ''If you're going to continue, I think I will leave. Bring back Derf when you are finished.'' Taking off the sword from his back, Saito put it on his chair and left, grumbling.

Derflinger and I waited for him to be far enough away from us before talking.

''From the amount of fights he survived, I would have expected him to have at least gone through a maiden's flower.'' I commented. ''He seemed quite eager to gaze at me when he had the opportunity.'' Now that I thought about it, this kind of willingness was typical for virgins.

''Well, that's Partner for you. He fights armies for the girl but can't man up in front of her. Would be much easier for him if his spitfire was less fickle.'' Answered the sword. ''You think I should teach him how to do it?''

I scoffed. ''I'm sure nobody wants to kiss your steel.''

''Hey! I'm an expert when it comes to penetration!'' Shouted out Derflinger.

''Yes, and this is why you run through men. I'm not sure it will help Saito.'' I reminded him.

''Point taken.'' Acknowledged the sentient sword.

Since the two of us didn't want to add anything on the subject, he changed the topic. ''So you aren't human?'' The way he said it made it clear it was more a statement than a question.

''It was quite obvious.'' I gave him an superfluous answer. ''Did you notice it by any chance when I told you I saw humans inventing craftsmanship?''

Derflinger snorted. ''There was that, yes, but again there were the eight legs, almost fooled me on this. Also, you shouldn't forget the thing on your back that look like a sword, it is quite weird how it reacts to the hundreds of human souls you have inside of you.''

I internally froze. I was stupefied at the casual way the sword noticed all of that. Luckily, I was starting to build a new resistance against surprising news, and so externally I didn't show how astonished I was. ''I have just a sword on my back, an oddly shaped one maybe, but still. I am also quite curious as to why you think I have human souls inside of me.''

He wasn't tricked in the slightest. ''The thing on your back is as much a sword as I a rusted piece of iron. And I have visited enough stomachs to recognize what that black thing is. That's what makes a human alive, right?''

''For a sword, you have some good eyes.'' I accused him, narrowing my stare. I was starting to think of a way I could explain the sword's disappearance. I didn't want it starting babbling about me being a soul-sucking monster in the middle of a religious sect.

''I have neither tongue nor ears and yet we have been talking for a while. How could I interact with others if I couldn't feel the inside of things?'' Reminded Derflinger. ''If you are worried about me talking about you, know that I can keep secrets.''

''This is quite generous of you.'' I was somewhat less tense.

''Why should I share it in the first place? I can talk, yes, but it is not in my nature to do so. You should know it if your story was even half-true. I am first and foremost a sword. And while I decided to make the boy my partner for now, it doesn't mean I tell him everything. His little spitfire would blow me up if I told her half the things I knew about royalty.'' Argued Derflinger.

I thought about it for a moment, and found the argument satisfying. ''Fair enough. I thank you, Derflinger, for the silence you will keep.'' I told respectfully and threateningly.

''Think nothing of it missy. Now that we have the unpleasant talk out of the way. I have to remind you that you are nothing but a baby compared to me!'' Shouted the blade joyfully. ''Knights came back to their king's castle after months of adventures. The king asks them to share the tale of their battles.''

I was starting to appreciate the weapon. His claims of longevity weren't so unjustified as it seemed now. Between the difference in calendars and the indeterminate time I spent in the corridor, it was unclear whether or not I was the elder here in fact. Still, I didn't want to lose a contest. I kept a competitive streak through the years, and it was nice to struggle for something minor instead of thinking to the political schemes I will have to catch on later.

Taking a royal, and yet confused stance, I played the king. ''But I don't have enemies in the south.''

Derflinger shouted. ''Now, you do!''

We continued finding the punchline of each other's jokes for a while. It reminded me fondly of the long nights I spent with my sisters after a long separation. Only a barrel of wine was lacking.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

My contest with Derflinger ended in a draw. It wasn't that we had trouble finding content, but we couldn't stop laughing. We decided to continue another time. There was also the fact the terrace's owner asked us to tone the sound down as people would soon come. He might have found the idea of a eight-legged spider woman and a talking sword laughing and talking dirty at his table somewhat disturbing. We left in exchange for a full basket of food. It was easy to claim we were guests of the Pope.

Sheathing Derflinger in my back through my impromptu bra, I took the food in my arms. The talking weapon told me Saito was most probably training with the others guests from Tristain, the Knights Corps of the Water Spirit. I decided I might as well bring Saito a lunch. I would have eaten with Tiffania had I known where she would eat at noon, but Derflinger only knew where his wielder should be.

I found the area lent to the Tristainian's guests without too much trouble. Thanks to Saito's cape, no one bothered me about decency. Next to an inn built out of wood, in a grass courtyard, a dozen young men were busy hitting and yelling at each other with training swords. They were recognizable by their uniform, the one Tiffania bore earlier this day.

As I neared the group of young students, I obviously drew everyone's attention. While I listened their conversation about my mysterious beauty and the monstrous nature of my lower body, I sought my fellow familiar.

At least, until someone directly talked to me.

It was a boy. An effeminate youngster who managed to not have sweaty hair even through training. I wondered if all blonde men in this land were good-looking. He was the third I have seen today. Letting his practice sword fall on the ground, he took out a rose from his clothes and began passionately complimenting my radiance. ''Are my eyes deceiving me? Here, standing in front of me, the greatest beauty these lands had ever known! Look at the milkiness of her skin, the fairness of her features, the elegance of her movements! A noblewoman of the highest education, as magnificent as a queen, even in the humblest of outfit. Founder Brimir, crush me under your almighty wand if such gorgeous creature ever walked in Halkeginia before today, for it is the only reason why praises of her grace have yet to be sung, and legends of her beauty kept in records for the generations to come! I, Guiche de Gramont, hereby swear it!''

I didn't expect people to start adulating me, at least, not so soon. I was going to listen a little more to this Guiche, as I had few occasions to bath in praises without doing anything. It was very pleasing. While the young man's speech could have seemed over the top for common pretty girls, it was fitting for someone of my stature. If he continued to show such a gift for flattering, I would even grant him a kiss before regretfully turning him away.

''Going so far as to leave your distant country in order to come here, showing your support to His Holiness the Pope, but also bringing food to some of the knights assuring his security. Your generosity is...''

It was what I thought I would do.

''Truly, you are the fair lady of...''

Until he said that.

I smashed my sword against his head.

One moment, I held a basket of food in my arms, listening to a kneeling young man singing praises for me. The next moment, I put the basket in my left arm, grabbed the handle of Quelaag's Furysword and struck the blonde youth across the cheek with the flat of the blazing blade, hitting him violently, but not lethally. Too busy finding words to comprehend the extent of my glory, my target didn't realise my intent until it literally hit him in the face, the sound of the impact violently reverberating through the courtyard.

Because of his low position to the ground, he didn't fly, but he was still thrown several meters to the side. If he was still somewhat lucky despite his blunder, the blade's imprint wouldn't be branded on his face. Quelaag's Furysword generated flames as it struck, which didn't mean the weapon was constantly hot. Guiche didn't move, due to unconsciousness instead of death. Even human beings were harder to kill than that.

I released a furious breath, contrasting with the astonished silence which took place among the students. It was then that Derflinger chose to comment. ''That's a way to take care of unwanted suitors. Knew some girls who could have learned something from you.'' Even through his rough voice, I could hear his amused acknowledgement.

People around weren't as understanding, the boys were in uproar. This was most likely the reason why Saito came here, running. He must have taken a break as his blue clothes were wet, as if he had thrown a bucket of water over his head.

Saito shouted, alarmed. ''What's going on?!''

''I don't know! Commander was doing his two-timer on the spider lady there and she just bashed her sword on his head!'' Told one of Guiche's friend. ''Vice-Commander, we need to take revenge!'' Shouted another one. While a few stayed cautious, most of them turned to Saito, explaining him the situation, which only made him more confused since they were all talking at the same time.

''Derflinger.'' I muttered, serenely. ''I am a little angry and I would like a punchbag. Is your partner flimsy?'' My voice was as sweet as honey as I asked the sword how squishy his wielder was.

The blade snorted. ''Pff. Partner is far from flimsy after all his lassie put him through. He is tough for a human. Sure, I will lend you a hand, well, Partner's one. I already fought burning swords, but never sentient fire-spitting ones. I wonder how it feels.''

''DUEL! DUEL! DUEL!'' Screamed the students in chorus.

While we talked, the group of students pushed Saito in front of me. It seemed he was chosen as representative to save their commander's honour. The fact this Guiche was the captain of these schoolboy knights wasn't surprising. He had good looks and he demonstrated his ability to make a speech. His school friends all pushed someone else to do the hard work for them instead of standing up themselves, showing their lack of bravery and qualification.

Saito, who seemed to be the second in command, only had a vague idea of what was happening. Unfortunately for him, I wanted to hit someone and he was the most likely to survive if I did so. Taking Derflinger out of my makeshift bra, I threw it at Saito's feet. The students screamed even louder. Saito would be hard-pressed to pull out now that he had his weapon. I put the basket of food on the ground and made a few movements with the Furysword in order to have a good feel.

''Quelaan!'' Said Saito, still lost. ''Please, tell me what the hell is wrong here!''

''It is easy to understand, my dear. The crowd wants bloodshed and I want to hit someone. You just happen to be the scapegoat.'' I gave him at least an answer to explain the beating he will soon receive. ''Let me indulge myself, I will share my lunch with you afterwards.'' I didn't lose time and charged him.

''I think it's hardly a...'' The knight was going to whine about social injustice when I tried to cut off his head. Fortunately, his reflexes were good enough to draw Derflinger from his sheath and defend himself, even if the impact's momentum threw him backwards. I didn't stop there, I charged him again, my rage made me relentless in my onslaught. Saito rose from the ground only to parry and avoid a wall of steel and fire. Flames danced in the air as the Furysword moved. A slash, another slash, followed by two stabs and a cut as I drew back my blade, I continued, wrath behind my blows.

One could wonder why I was angry. It would have been totally understandable. Why would I have struck Guiche de Gramont if I didn't even dislike him? Why would I hit this charming boy named Saito if I didn't want him to be hurt? My anger was totally unfounded, and irrational, and I should technically, if I was a moral being, seek Guiche de Gramont's forgiveness once he woke up. But then again, the origin of my anger was indeed irrational.

I was fuming against the universe.

Since I first understood a word in this castle of Aquileia, I had had to keep my temper in check and rationalise each and every piece of earth-shattering news I heard. Elemental magic, bilunar sky and godless religion. I could accept there were things I couldn't understand but it didn't made it any easier to tolerate such nonsense. At least, I could think of it as one of the land's fancies. Then, there were Saito's mind-boggling stories. Once again, I had to wrap my mind around several bewildering tales, each more outlandish than the other, and keeping in mind it all happened in the last year. The sheer absurdity of this Void power was also a bitter medicine to swallow.

The fact that Saito found it obvious that the planet was spheric, this heliocentrism, didn't help me at all. Astrology hadn't retained my attention beyond the celestial map and the several anecdotes I could find to each constellation, and I had since long stopped bothering myself with the concept of motion, either in time or space. Between Velka's crows and the Serpents' underground movements, I always ended up with both a headache, and thoughts more intertwined than their very ancient necks.

If nothing else, I could tolerate Halkeginia as an entirely foreign world I had only known for less than thirty-six hours. A place full of wonders I didn't want to appreciate, like Seath's laboratory. I was inside, without being part of it, an outsider. Then, the youngster had to make it personal, and call me the name I didn't want to hear ever again.

The Fair Lady. The memories it evoked still stained my heart. Even I could hardly burn away several centuries of blurred agony in a single night. And the young man had to remind me of my time in the corridor... Even the blond boy's sycophancy reminded me the traitorous worm.

Of course, I wasn't lacking so much self-control as to attack someone mindlessly, so I could have ignored the smooth talker and gone elsewhere if I wanted to. Only, keeping those kind of feelings bottled up was very bad in a long-term situation. Being ancient, I was used to operating in such a way. So I always tried to take care of my anger issues right away.

Now that I thought about it, I was being more moody than usual. Then again, there were circumstances to explain the crossness of my behaviour. I would have to take a break and meditate about it.

Take a break... Suddenly, a revelation struck me. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept. Maybe I did in the Domain, but the pain kept me somewhat awake most of the time. I had been feeling sick for so long I didn't even recognised insomnia's symptoms. Meditation was great for the nerves, but it didn't replace sleep. No wonder I was snappy.

I blocked Saito's first offensive.

I had the time to think about all of this while hitting the chevalier, proof he was letting me strike him, or he was just too busy figuring out how to fight an opponent as big as I. Then, he started fighting back. He stayed in front of me, avoiding and parrying my slashes while he tried disarming me or just grazing my upper body. While his unwillingness to harm was touching, he could have found a better way to fight against me. Running around me for example. What I lost in dodge ability and footwork when I mutated, I gained in height, weight and sheer muscle. To fight me head on was stupid.

However, as the duel continued, Saito's blows became stronger, Derflinger heavier. Even if my own attacks lost power when I realised the origin of my rage, lessening my anger, I should still hit harder than the human. It was then I noticed Saito's left hand was shining, more accurately, the Gandalfr runes were. It seemed they granted him power. I have known some artefacts granting similar effects to their wielder, even I had to respect the craftsmanship of Fina's rings of favour and protection. The only thing that couldn't be reproduced was the skill to wield weapons, which was what Saito's runes were supposed to do.

Seeing Saito's swordsmanship, I could almost understand how these runes were working. His confidence while wielding his sword was much greater than when we spoke together, and his reaction time was way too fast to belong to a boy who picked up a sword only a year ago, same thing for his breathing. It shouldn't be possible for someone like him to not be scared by Quelaag's Furysword in a fight, either by its wicked appearance or by the flames it generated, especially when I almost killed him with that same sword last night, and yet he was just focused. His fighting style was a patchwork of differents strikes he couldn't get to flow together, probably due to a lack of basic training, even if individually each strike was well-executed. The runes's power was to optimize Saito's movements when he moved, but it was doing so without granting him any expertise. The runes must somehow affect his mind. I didn't like this at all.

It was very bad for me. Unlike Saito, I had had the time to bother learning how to use several weapons, and I was thus more skilled than him. It didn't change the fact he was strong and fast. He deviated my strikes and avoided the flames the Furysword produced before giving me a strong blow, heavy enough to hurt my wrist through the impact. He was currently physically as strong as I, which was ridiculous as I was several hundred kilograms heavier than him. But because of that, he was smaller than me, and quicker on his feet.

Had I still my two legs, I could have somehow quickly defeated him through sheer skill and speed. But too many things had happened to me since the last time I seriously fought with a sword. Work, mutation, paralysis, I have lost much of my reflexes. My change in appearance also severely affected my swordplay. I thus had much less speed, but much more strength. I would have defeated an average fighter without too much trouble, but Saito was an incredibly strong defensive swordsman. His endurance was also enhanced by the runes, making him much harder to put down. He would easily overwhelm me in a drawn-out fight.

Saito's strikes became more and more powerful as his runes shone brighter, it didn't cease to increase, it was bewildering. He could have fought against Havel, this mountain of a man, and gave him a hard time with this kind of energy. I could only protect myself now, backing down. I couldn't win without upping the game, which I didn't want to.

I might as well end the fight now.

Continuing to exchange blows, I purposefully gave my opponent an opening, who took it. Slipping under my guard, Saito made an upward thrust in direction of my heart, which he ended before it reached its target, almost cutting my skin. I sighed in relief when he drew back his blade.

I ended my protection there. The advantage of fighting with a one-handed weapon was that you could still use your off-hand to cast pyromancies. Having your blade spitting fire at your opponent was also a good way to draw his attention away. Still, even with the Iron Flesh pyromancy cast, no matter how proficient I was in its use, I was finding it dangerous to have a blade so near my organs. I didn't live for so long by being careless.

''You won.'' I clearly said, even if I was winded, Iron Flesh was a great protection, but it made me so heavy it was hard to even move. I also didn't expect the additional weight my lower body would have to bear. Saito slumped on the ground as I confirmed his victory. The crowd around, which grew since the last time I checked, cheered their champion Saito.

''I hadn't had such a hard time in a swordfight since my training with Agnès.'' The victor muttered as he took back his breath. I didn't tell him that with the kind of power the Gandalfr runes granted him, he could have defeated me with thrice less effort had he bothered to think of me as a beast to subdue instead of a human swordswoman. At least, it was a good work-out. It awakened some of my old fighting skills I had since long forgotten.

It was as I stretched, much more relaxed than earlier, that I noticed Saito's ending thrust did cut something, the cloth I used as bra. Instead of yelling in shock, I lowered myself in order to get back the now cut cape which fell on the ground. Simultaneously, as I bent down to take it, Saito rose from the ground.

Which explained how Saito's face ended up in my cleavage.

At first, we didn't move. Then, I learned something of Saito. His first impulse when he find himself in unexplored territory was to grab the origin of the problem, for his hands started to feel up and squeeze my bust. Feeling the youth had experience fondling breasts, I decided to let him continue as it was quite pleasant. I was wondering how long it would take for Saito to realise what he was doing, the situation was after all in the palm of his hands. Oddly, I compared myself to an Amazon. A woman from a militaristic and matriarchal community where the male had to triumph over the female in order to conquer her body. The current situation reminded it of this trivia. I was only hearing Saito muttering the word 'soft' as I took back my breath.

''SAITOOO!''

Someone yelled with fury. I turned to see from which direction came the scream, only to see Tiffania Westwood in a gorgeous white regalia with golden outlines. The robe was giving her some kind of spiritual presence, fully displaying the feeling of purity she naturally emanated. Next to her was an outraged and uncouth girl, Louise de La Vallière, in the same garb, and lacking all of Tiffania's innate grace. She walked aggressively towards Saito, who instantly got out of my cleavage, looking like a child caught red-handed doing something naughty.

Saito, a fearsome warrior whose strength would make cautious even the strongest knights back in Lordran, was stammering in front of the girl, who was more than a head shorter than him. She walked to him before repeatedly kicking him in the leg.

''You perverted dog!'' She yelled. ''Why do you have to touch the breasts of every woman you see? Always breasts with you! Didn't you see she was trying to cut you down with a burning sword! Nothing better to do than worrying me!'' She punctuated each sentence with another kick. My impression of her was that she was quite conflicted, acting both like a cheated wife and a worried lover at the same time. While Louise hit him, Saito did nothing to appease her but taking the hits, smiling like an idiot.

Once she was finished with her familiar, the pink-haired girl turned in my direction. Her expression was mixed, like she didn't know how to feel about me. After a moment she just said. ''You are skilled with a sword for a heretic. Still, you let dogs fondle you.'' Another conflicted statement.

''To the victor go the spoils.'' I guessed. It obviously grated her. I looked around, the students disappeared once the girl appeared. She must have a reputation for short-tempered behaviour.

''Are the two of you alright?'' Inquired Tiffania, worried about eventual injuries. Suddenly, I felt much more grateful to Tiffania for being the one who summoned me. La Vallière could have been a far worse person to be indebted to. ''I'm unharmed, Saito only came close to the skin.'' I told her.

I went to the spot where I put the basket of food I brought. ''Saito, I promised you a lunch after our spar, would you like to eat with me?'' He was about to respond when his summoner only growled his name as a threat. ''Saito, if it bothers your nun friend to eat alone with me, I can also invite Tiffania.'' I added. I knew her name, but she didn't introduce herself yet.

''My name is Louise Le Blanc de La Vallière, familiar.'' She told me, unfriendly.

''A pleasure to meet you, Miss La Vallière. Tiffania, would you like to eat with us?'' I answered brightly, being courteous and dismissive at the same time. I loved doing that. Tiffania, as innocent as she looked, didn't notice and just offered. ''Won't it be better to eat together?''

''I wholeheartedly agree with you, Tiffania.'' Added a new voice. It belonged to Queen Henrietta of Tristain, who was followed by her bodyguard, the sharp-eyed swordswoman. She brought with her the whole setup for a picnic. Once the surprise of her appearance faded away, La Vallière quickly nodded. Since it was originally our idea, Tiffania and I both agreed. Saito followed us.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

Lunch was a fairly good representation of the current relationships. Everyone sat in pairs, Saito and Louise, Henrietta and Agnès, Tiffania and I. I was finding it amusing that the swordswoman, the chevalier Agnès, chose to sit between her principal and me. Since I was quite large, I was the farthest away from the food, and I had to ask my new blonde-haired friend to pass me some. It annoyed me greatly to have to ask someone to help me eat, but I was too tall to be able to reach the food on the tablecloth on my own. At least, without painful acrobatics.

Henrietta, as she quickly asked me to call her without honorifics in private, organised the picnic for me. It was subtle, but yet, it was evident I was the reason she prepared this event. Why else would she have had a pair of shirts around my size with her, which she generously gave me, along with a meal for several persons?

Her aim was to let me make a more thorough introduction than in the cathedral. Nobody there knew who I was, and so I decided to take as identity something along the lines of what I told Jean Colbert last night. Quelaan of Izalith, an erudite daughter of a noblewoman who have traveled a lot. While interested in magic, I have also been educated in swordsmanship and other military arts. I was indebted to Tiffania for having summoned me as it gave me the opportunity to discover a whole new world. At least, that would be the edited version. I would have needed several days to truthfully explain my life. I was also feeling grateful to Saito to not mention the insight I gave him over my longevity.

''And how did you manage to enter a library like that?'' Sarcastically asked Louise de La Vallière. Henrietta and Saito gave her glares when she mentioned my mutation. I would have believed the crown princess of Tristain would have been perceptive enough to notice no one was asking about my legs. Or maybe she did and she didn't care. She had been moody since I gave Saito a few pointers on how to work on his swordsmanship.

''Miss La Vallière,'' I kindly started. ''If you have been wondering about my lower body, know that I only recently acquired these legs. I wasn't born this way.'' La Vallière first didn't believe me, but then a flash of recognition went through her eyes and she winced. She made a quick apology. As I thought, as long as supernatural phenomena like magic exists, there would be accidents of the same nature. There were most likely stories about failed rituals in Halkeginia too. The girl just didn't think about it before asking.

Even Saito, coming from a culture which, as he told me, believed the supernatural didn't exist had enough tact to not ask me. However, Tiffania, who had been exposed to a society focused on the surnatural for an even lesser amount of time than Saito, was curious, and also quite naïve. It wasn't surprising that she was the one who innocently did. ''Quelaan, why do you have the legs of a spider?''

''I was doing a ritual to create a flame. It failed.'' I simply answered. I could divert those kinds of questions without so much as a thought.

''What happened?'' Tiffania insisted. I sent her a look, just to see how serious she was when enquired this. Seeing the change in my attitude, she realised her faux-pas and bashfully drew back. ''I'm sorry. You don't have to answer if it's too personal.''

It was quite bothersome. I didn't want my summoner to think she couldn't ask me things, yet, if possible, I would prefer not talking about traumatic events in my past. I compromised. ''If you want to, I can tell you Tiffania. However, I don't know if you would like me sharing such stories over such a pleasant picnic. It would ruin the food's taste.'' Thankfully, we had already finished eating.

Like an open book, she openly looked around to see that the atmosphere had already become heavier. The silence lasted several seconds, before Queen Henrietta spoke.

''Louise Françoise, Tiffania. I think you should go back. You have to prepare for His Holiness's ceremony.'' She suggested. Once they left, she also urged Saito to take care of the Water Spirit Knight Corps's training, as he was their vice-commander, and Guiche might still be unconscious.

Soon enough, we were now three instead of six. Henrietta, Agnès and myself.

''I would like to first, thank you again for the shirts.'' From the amount of craft needed for the design of the white cloth, it was obvious it had been designed for a prestigious person. It must have been one of her own. ''I suppose you want to talk to me in private. It's fortunate for me, as I also wanted to talk to you.'' The queen acquiesced. While Agnès was also present, she was a bodyguard, she wouldn't be one to talk. The conversation would be between Henrietta and I.

''Tiffania is my charge, it is evident I wouldn't leave her familiar in distress. But I doubt that, aside my cousin, we have many things to talk about.'' Henrietta said. I had the feeling she wanted to drag the conversation.

''Since my arrival in Halkeginia, I have been doing my best to learn everything I could about this land, even though some of Saito's tales are for the least bewildering. While I have now an understanding of the current situation, I am missing some of the details. I would have hoped you could fill the blanks.''

''I do not mind, however, you are as much a surprise to Halkeginia as it is for you. I would like to ask you some questions too.'' While I appreciated the peaceful atmosphere, I couldn't help but wonder if it was the way she ruled. For a queen, she was awfully submissive.

''Well.'' I began. ''I have met the Romalia's ruler, you, the Queen of Tristain, and my summoner can be considered Albion's heiress. Thus I have been thinking about what kind of person was this King Joseph of Gallia. How is he?''

While Henrietta obviously worked on her body language, she still had trouble hiding her dislike of the character. ''King Joseph is nicknamed ''The Incompetent King'' by his own people, but while it is true he acts like a clown, it is none but a mask for his cunning. He is a dangerous and unpredictable man.''

''He sounds like an interesting fellow.'' I couldn't help but comment. ''Are you sure you want such a wild card in your crusade?''

Henrietta sighed. ''Joseph is a warmonger. The promise of a crusade would likely tempt him. I trust His Holiness to be able to make him listen to our offer.''

''I am curious then. Unlike Joseph, I doubt you are a warmonger. What is your interest in this holy war against the elves?''

Taking a resigned smile, she continued. ''I am sure Saito told you about how Tristain invaded Albion when the country had been conquered by Reconquista. While justified by the fact they sent an invasion to Tristain first, I decided to bring the war to them for my own needs. Reconquista killed the the last king of Albion in all but name, my cousin Wales, whom I loved from the bottom of my heart. Because of my grudge, I sent my people fight in Albion. I am participating in this crusade to take back the holy land to atone for this sin. A war to unite Halkeginia and end all wars to come.''

At the end, more than an answer, her speech sounded like a confession. As a third party who didn't know anything about it, I supposed I was an adequate person from whom you could ask an unbiased judgement. However, it wasn't the point. I finally identified the odd feeling I had felt since I first spoke to her, a slight dissonance between what I knew and what I saw.

Queen Henrietta of Tristain wasn't a queen.

She was a girl with an idealistic opinion of the role of a monarch. Had I asked her what was the most important thing for a ruler, I was sure she would have answered the well-being of her people. Either she became queen too young, or someone botched up her education. What she was doing now was a show of trust she used to make me feel I had to give her information afterwards. I had done the same thing several minutes ago. While intelligent, she totally miscalculated the influence she had on me. Tiffania wasn't the only naïve girl around it seems, they were lucky I didn't want to wrong them.

''I thank you for your sincerity Queen Henrietta. I believe you also had questions for me.'' I offered her. Had there been hierarchy, it should have been Henrietta's role to control the conversation. It was another hint at her lack of skill, not that I needed any more than the ones she had already given me. If she had even told me a shred of the truth about Joseph, it meant she was totally miscalculating this situation too.

''I have watched your duel with Saito. While I congratulate for your skills, I am more interested in the sword you used.''

I drew Quelaag's Furysword. It was true it was a weapon which drew attention, it was a fire-spitting blade after all. ''Do you want to know something specific about it? This weapon has a very long history.''

''Is it a cursed item?'' Both Henrietta and Agnès, who had been picking scrap of foods around to put them in the basket, were cautious at the sight of me drawing it.

The weapon did look cursed. Its unusual length, the irregularity of the blade making it look like a chitinous shell, the number of spikes adorning the edge, the natural formation of the guard making one wonder if it had been crafted in a single part, all of it to craft a weapon of a uniform black colour. The sheer appearance of the Furysword was wicked and disturbing, looking like some kind of demonic insect whose shape had been one of a sword. It is a blade which hides nothing in that aspect.

''Only as cursed as I am. It doesn't have any ability other than to produce flames.'' I truthfully answered. The girl wasn't too pleased by my answer, but she continued nonetheless.

''Why did you attack Guiche de Gramont earlier today?'' While the question was legitimate, as the blond boy I attacked was one of her vassals, the timing was odd.

I thought about finding an excuse, but it was easier to be honest. ''His words and mannerisms reminded me of a worm who left me with a lot of bitter memories.'' I chewed off the word 'worm' with much resentment.

''And shall we all be cautious to not do the same, lest to occur your temper?'' Finally asked Henrietta. The way she put more attention into the wording, and the way she looked at me, was making me believe it was the question she had waited to ask me.

Since I had landed in Halkeginia, I had in my record three attempted murders within the hour of my arrival, followed the next morning by disrespect and insults towards their Pope and then unprovoked assault on one of her knights. She was worried about me having a bout of rage and lashing out on Tiffania.

''I am sincere in my devotion towards Tiffania Westwood, and I know how to take care of myself, I won't go on a rampage. I just prefer to not keep bottled up my feelings as it leads to nothing but stress.'' I imparted the queen. She must have been surprised how perceptive I was of her thoughts because she seemed to lose her focus for a moment.

''I admit I have been worried about what kind of person my cousin summoned. Still, it is hard to trust you, especially with an excuse as flimsy as relieving stress.'' Henrietta played now a little more heavy-handedly. Finally.

''You have known me for less than two days, it is normal for you to not trust me. You need time to build trust. But if nothing, I can at least offer you insight as to why I am currently the least of your worries.'' I declared with confidence.

It drew her attention.

''I am not naïve. I know Joseph will more likely than not refuse and send assassins. The night of your summoning, two thieves infiltrated the castle and stole the Founder's Mirror. However, we are prepared.'' Disclosed Henrietta.

I stared at the queen as I would an oblivious child. ''You just told me Joseph was a cunning warmonger. If this crusade's aim is to unite Halkeginia, he will do everything he can to prevent it. It wouldn't be surprising if he suddenly decided to invade Romalia, allowing him to take care of the three other bearers of the Void, the Pope, and the queen of Tristain at the same time. Either this, or he may join you only to send armies to conquer Halkeginia while all the Void bearers are in the holy land, busy threatening elves. A crusade is a huge project, if your Pope is half as wise as he looks, he will know better than to leave his back open to an untrustworthy ally.''

The regal woman, even if she acknowledged what I said, was still sceptical. ''Why would His Holiness try to use diplomacy with Joseph then?''

''It is obvious, my dear.'' Agnès, near her principal, gave me a glare for the clearly familiar name. ''He intends to provoke him and slay him in the defence of his country. He invites you earlier in order to gain your support, makes you cooperate by presenting to him the two Void bearers under your protection, and then presents Joseph de Gallia as an obstacle to overcome in order to earn their support. When Gallia attack Romalia, the holy Pope Vittorio Severare will have no choice but to counter-attack. Saito told me he has a feud with Joseph. While the Gallian and Romalian armies are fighting each other, nobody will interfere while the Gandalfr is dispatched to slay King Joseph and his familiar Myoznitnirn. I have fought against Saito, I saw how difficult he is to bring down. The Pope will win the battle without even dirtying his hands.''

''His Holiness isn't such a ruthless man, he wouldn't do such things!'' Shouted out Henrietta, outraged. If she was the kind to believe good-looking men did benevolent things, she should better find a husband and let him take care of politics.

''I'm sure His Holiness is a good and just ruler who has Halkeginia's interests at heart, in the same way I am sure you, Queen Henrietta of Tristain, are a peaceful and earnest queen who has her people's best interests at heart. You are such a good and pacific queen you will start a crusade against people you have never seen and take the land they have been living on for millenia because of its symbolical value for your people. It is for Halkeginia's greater good after all. Slaying an evil king shouldn't be so different. At least, you are sure he is wronging someone.'' I told her in a sickeningly sweetly voice.

She was going to call my monologue a sarcasm, only for the words to drown in her mouth as she realized it wasn't one.

I was serious.

I could understand the concept of the greater good, but the fact was that I hated from the bottom of my heart how much sense it made. It was for the greater good that Gwyn pushed Izalith to perform the Second Flame ritual. It was for the greater good that I healed the infected in Blighttown. In the same way, Vittorio Severare convinced Henrietta to go to war against the elves aiming for peace in the name of the greater good, to make the holy land a Halkeginian symbol of unity and peace.

While the new understanding of the situation took place in Henrietta's mind, I turned to Agnès who was still listening. ''Agnès, it is a speculation of mine, but is the Romalian Pope elected?''

Seeing the state I was putting her charge through, she was less happy but she still answered. ''Yes. Once the current Pope dies, all the cardinals, the top-ranked clergymen, assemble in a closed council to elect a new one.'' It was as I had thought it would be.

Once Henrietta gathered her wits, I continued my train of thought. ''There is an important difference between Vittorio Severare and you, Henrietta. You have been crowned as Tristain's monarch through bloodline, while Vittorio had been crowned Romalian Pope through election, three years ago. Vittorio Severare, while he was still too young to grow a beard, became ruler of a country in a competition against religious leaders thrice his age. Either he was the good-looking puppet for someone, or he was intelligent, charismatic, driven and ruthless enough to do it on his own.'' High priests back in Lordran often had the habit of thinking of themselves as their god's chosen one, they were right in this respect, but it didn't prevent other people from being the same.

Strangely enough, it was Agnès who answered. ''His Holiness doesn't seem to be a puppet.''

Finally, Henrietta sighed, surrendering. While naïve and likely idealistic, she had shown herself able to think in a cold fashion. ''I'll admit what you said, Quelaan, makes a lot of sense, much more than what I had thought before. It also explains why His Holiness is holding the ceremony in Aquileia, so near the Gallian border. Louise's fears are even more credible now.'' Seeing my interrogative expression, she developed. ''Louise feared that Saito would be put on the frontlines again. His Holiness, like Tiffania, aren't battle mages. Louise needs time to cast her spells, and while Julio is also a familiar of the Void, the Windalfr runes don't give him special abilities apart from manipulating beasts, so he is in fact a swordsman who can control creatures. It only leaves Saito, the Gandalfr, to be the spearhead.''

I nodded in understanding. ''I see. It is much more advantageous for this Julio to fight as a tactician, staying in the background controlling his beasts and having a better understanding of the field.'' I understood now the mixed feelings the pink-haired girl had, earlier. ''Louise was happy to see I was able to give a run to Saito during our spar, it proved there was someone other than Saito with a high combat potential.'' Unfortunately for her, I was much more dangerous at mid and long distance. I sighed. ''How long before Joseph is supposed to come?''

''In two days, the day after tomorrow.'' Henrietta reminded me, her tone grave, now fully realising the incoming threat. I managed not to groan. I was more right than I had thought, back in Blighttown. I would have to fight, and I would have to share my wisdom and knowledge.

''We know the abilities of the Gandalfr, Windalfr and Myoznitnirn, all are masteries or dominion over a specific field. What is Lifbrasir's ability then?'' I asked, hopeful to know if I could use a new asset.

''His Holiness told me Lifbrasir, unlike the other familiars, was a 'reservoir for magic'. I don't know what he meant by this term.'' A reservoir for magic was as hazy a term as the word 'willpower'. It didn't help me much. We fell into a silence as we thought about what we could do.

King Joseph's threat was worrying me.

The most worrying about Joseph's invasion was the lack of information. The Pope's third anniversary of reign was supposed to start the day after tomorrow, and would be followed by a two-week long festival. Joseph could attack whenever he wanted with whatever he wanted in that lapse of time.

If his invasion was only made up of ten to thirty thousand soldiers, it could probably be handled. Even if some of my skills were rusted, I could always cast a large-scale pyromancy to cause enough damage to destabilise the Gallian invasion and ease the Romalian army's job. More soldiers would only be cumbersome to move and manage for Gallia.

The problem was the number of trump cards this King Joseph could use. His familiar Sheffield was supposed to be able to use any magical items thanks to the Myoznitnirn runes she bore. She could always find a way to make tactical weapons with a whole country's resources backing her.

Saito told me that Halkeginia had the technology to create flying ships, and also that he had already fought against a Gallian giant metal human-like construction impervious to magical damage which could wreck a battlefield in a single move. A Golomonta or a Jormungand, something like that. I didn't even know if it also affected my own spells. Even having only three such golems could win someone a war.

Then there was the number of spies, assassins and mercenaries that could have entered Aquileia for the festival and who could backstab the city once the invasion came. It wouldn't be surprising at all if Joseph had dispatched killers to take care of our side's assets like Louise, Saito and I. At least if he had learned of my existence through spies.

With all of this against us, it would be very important to have counter measures, but I didn't have either the time or resources to prepare anything. It was maddening. I cared only for my creditor, and the only thing I could do to protect Tiffania Westwood would be to stay near her, and it wasn't reassuring at all. I wasn't suited to be a bodyguard.

A bodyguard?

I watched Agnès. From her short brown haircut which cleared her eyesight, to her stance, and the steel-blue of her eyes, she looked sharp. I could see even through her clothes her athletic muscles. Even though she was only a bit older than her principal, I could feel she was a skilled swordswoman. Her only flaw would be that she didn't have any magical abilities. Something I could take care of in a day through means the current situation allowed.

But should I?

''I see. Henrietta, I suppose you trust Agnès with your life?'' Looking at me oddly for the sudden change of topic, she firmly nodded. Good. It wouldn't have been good to have an untrustworthy bodyguard during important discussions, especially if it was to realise it now.

''Why do you ask Quelaan?'' Said the queen.

''I was thinking of granting her a gift.'' I answered. The queen turned to look at her loyal bodyguard, who only briefly acquiesced. We had now a long and interesting discussion, I was much less suspicious than at its beginning.

''Good.'' Rolling up the sleeves of the shirt Henrietta gave me, I asked Agnès to take off her gloves. I took her hands into mine. ''You must practice the sword very often.'' I stated, when I saw the calluses.

''Every morning.'' She answered, unperturbed. ''What kind of gift do you intend to give me?''

''Something that will help you against mages.'' While I didn't ask, I was sure Agnès wasn't a local sorcerer. I didn't want to test what I was going to do on a magic practitioner right now. I didn't know what could happen. A commoner was safer.

I closed my eyes. Feeling the stern woman from the contact I had with her hands, I was able to sense her humanity and her soul. I reached inside of me, avoiding the large amount of humanities concentrated around my spider abdomen, into the idea I had of my personal kiln in my stomach. I extracted from it a part of the flame that had stayed warm inside of me since I first started the incandescent art, so long ago, when I still had to use two flints to light a fire. Bringing this harnessed and ephemeral piece of ancient fire into my hands, I transmitted it into Agnès's hands, linking it to her soul.

I gave her a pyromancy flame. In her hands started a fire.

''Agnès, chevalier of Milan, I grant you the gift of Izalith!'' I solemnly shouted as flames erupted from our hands.

However, instead of a cry of surprise or amazement, Agnès let out a high-pitched of unspeakable horror. The stern woman fell on the ground, pitifully holding herself and screaming in agony she was burning. All the while, her hands were still letting out potent flames, truly burning her without her even noticing.

I was dumbstruck.

Oops?

''AGNES!'' Yelled Henrietta. She took out her scepter catalyst and cast a spell that somehow drew a large quantity of water from the surroundings, spraying it on Agnès. Still, flames came out of her palms. At least, it protected the tablecloth she was laying on from burning. Panicked, Henrietta went to me and accused me. ''You! Why have you done that to Agnès of all people?! She has been scared by fires since she was a child!''

Hearing that, I felt an impending feeling of doom surging inside my heart. My face blanched even more than my milky skin already did. Agnès had been scared by fires since she was little. It could easily be a traumatism, a traumatism triggered by fire. It wasn't an unusual fear. It was perfectly common to be scared of fire. Even Quelana's motto was 'Always fear the Flame.' and it was because the covenant remembered it too late that we have been destroyed.

However, while fear was healthy when it came to dealings with dangerous energies, panic never was. And panicked, Agnès was. I wasn't even sure why linking her soul to a part of my flame had such dramatic effects. It could be the lack of practice in creating pyromancers, the Flame of Chaos, the human biological differences between Halkeginia and Lordran, her traumatism, the simple fact she was human, or any combination of the three.

I only had a single course of action. In an agile and yet painful motion, I contorted myself into touching the writhing form of Agnès on the ground. Unfortunately for Henrietta's sanity, I used my firekeeper's abilities to plunge my hands into Agnès's skull and rib cage in order to metaphysically delve into her psyche through her humanity. Sanity was linked to its presence as multitudes of lost undeads proved it. Thankfully, I had much more practice dealing with people's minds than making them pyromancers. While Gwyn's orders banning us to create further pyromancers came quite early in the Age of Fire, I had had freedom to practice my unique firekeeper skills through the eras.

It was thanks to this practice I was able to quickly understand the problem. Her mind was having a problem processing the concept of the flame's sheer weight and age in her body. The flame was too pure, too harnessed and her mind too alien to the idea of an old fire. It explained why her nose was currently leaking blood. While it could have just induced a higher body heat and the headache of a lifetime in anyone, Agnès had had a phobia of fire since the day her hometown burned down, if I believed the images I saw. Instead of just processing the information, she was unconsciously rejecting it at the same time, using the new motion her brain learned, which was to project fire from her hands, fire she was busy figuring out and rejecting at the same time. A vicious circle which would kill her if I did nothing.

Still holding her, I willed her frightened mind into inaction. It was easier said than done, I might as well have tried to make a child learn how to meditate on the stones I melted earlier that day. However, if Agnès's mind was a panicked child, mine was a giant. I made her stop writhing. Maybe pinning down her mind in her own body would make her develop a benign form of claustrophobia but it was better than letting her die and leaving me responsible for her death.

Soon enough, Agnès calmed down and her hands ceased to produce fire. Still, with the fire stopping, I was able to see the damage done to her body, and especially her arms. It was ugly. Even if she would have earned pyromancy, I doubted she would ever be able to use it with her arms in their current state. I forced myself to relax. I knew exactly what I would have to do and I held back my cringe. Since it was something quite drastic, I would need to focus, no matter how unpleasant it would be.

''Henrietta! I will need your help!'' I shouted out. The queen who was standing at my side, thoroughly shocked by what I was doing, just blinked and was aware anew.

''What do I have to do?''

I took out my hand from her rib cage without any blood dirtying it, like it had been an intangible limb. ''I will need your help taking off my shirt, I don't have many clothes, I don't want to ruin it.'' I plainly said. Once again astonished, this time, by my priorities, Henrietta shook her head and just followed my instructions. I still had one hand in her friend's skull after all.

After two minutes of careful undressing, making sure I still had a hand working my magic in my patient, I was finally naked. Once again.

''I will now need you to give me Agnès's dagger.'' I continued to instruct the regal woman, my tone not unlike a doctor.

''Agnès doesn't have a dagger on her, only her sword.'' Henrietta stated.

I just sighed. I forgot she had been crowned queen less than a year ago, and that beforehand, she had been a princess. ''Then search in her left boot.'' Henrietta eyed me strangely and complied. She did found a well-made steel dagger inside it. While my right hand was still in Agnès's skull, I took the dagger with my left hand in a firm grip, and trained it in direction of my stomach.

''Quelaan, what are you doing?'' Asked Henrietta, even more anxious.

''Taking responsibility.'' I shot back. ''Back in Lordran, there was a country in the far east. Excellent craftsmanship when it came to very sharp blades, and very proud using those. It was common for disgraced warriors to cut open their belly to wash their honor.'' I hated doing this kind of thing.

''WHAT!?'' She couldn't help it, Henrietta shrieked like a little girl. The situation was completely out of her league.

Quickly, doing my best not thinking about it, I stabbed myself in the stomach with the dagger. It was painful, but largely bearable. The most difficult was to struggle against survival instincts. Thankfully, the blade had a nice edge and I avoided any vital spot. As a red blood left from my innards, I stirred the humanities inside of me. Willing a portion who could have filled the equivalent of two humans, I dragged them through the blood I was losing into my hand. It was painful, it felt like a tore out of myself a shuddering living thing before putting it in my hand. I felt emptier afterwards.

From there, I held on tightly on the symbolical liquid shape of these consumed humans souls, doing my best to control my breathing and shivering, and dragged them into Agnès's mouth. I had to ask Henrietta to help me open her jaws and close them afterwards. Instantly, in the span of a few seconds, the damage Agnès's body had received disappeared, new skin and new muscle grown anew. There wasn't even a mark of scar tissue, and Agnès looked much more well-rested. Henrietta, once she had healed my stab wound, was dumbfounded by the rapidity of the regeneration Agnès went through. It took her longer to close my wound than for me to regenerate Agnès's burnt muscles.

Confirming there wasn't anything else wrong with Agnès anymore, I eased and went back to a more comfortable position upright, without having to lift any specific part of my body. I was still dizzy from the extraction of humanities inside of me. If the Knight of Thorns could do it, I could do it too. I made a few stretches, noticing the lack of uncomfort at my newly closed wound Even with my body, it would have taken several minutes before such a complete recovery. Henrietta was a skilled healer.

''Explain what happened to the captain of my private guard. Now.'' Ordered the regal woman. For some reason, Queen Henrietta disliked how fast I was to relax after what was probably one of the most outrageous scenes of her life. She looked royally furious at this moment. I would have pointed it out to her, in order for her to remember how to reproduce the expression for a later date, but she would have considered such a remark as a joke or an attempt to patronize her.

''I tried to make Agnès assimilate an ember of a prehistorical flame into her soul to create an emotional link, enabling her to harness pyromancy. However, I didn't know she would have such a bad reaction due to past traumas. I had to tinker with her psyche to make sure she wouldn't kill herself thanks to a vicious circle engendered by her instinctive rejection. Afterwards, I healed her injuries through the use of an omnipotent medicine of dubious origin and morality and of obvious rarity.'' I almost killed her, she had the right to know what happened exactly. Even if I kept to myself the fact I made her drink liquid human souls. I would also have to thank Derflinger, he eased my doubts about eventual rejection problems.

Thankfully, through my straightforwardness and the specialised vocabulary I used, Henrietta didn't even know from where to start asking questions. She was trying to make sense of everything I just said.

''What are you?'' She finally asked.

I smiled despite myself. ''It had been what I have asked Halkeginia since my arrival. Can you give back the shirt?''

''Can someone tell me what the hell just happened?'' Mumbled Agnès, waking up.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

Once Agnès realised what happened, I had to use every bit of diplomacy I had to make sure she wouldn't kill me, or harm herself trying to do it. Diplomacy and an expert use of Iron Flesh. Consuming humanities made her more vigorous, which only further complicated things. I was able to make her listen to basic pyromancy instructions if only for her to stop conjuring fire spontaneously.

Luckily for me, the two women were rational. I was able to obtain their agreement for teaching the basics of pyromancy to Agnès the next day, even if they disliked it. Not that we had much more time to prepare against the more than likely Gallian attack. It was only because of this impending threat that I was also able to convince Henrietta to secure me a staff catalyst and a belt for Quelaag's Furysword. We had too little time to prepare more.

I let Henrietta and Agnès go back to their rooms. I gave them much to think about. I could have further talked with Henrietta, explaining her the futility of her atonement and of the crusade she wanted to achieve, but it wasn't urgent. I had revealed a perfidious plot concerning a foreign invasion to a queen in a papal garden and I had yet to speak privately to the one person I wanted to teach more, Tiffania Westwood. At least, I had now several topics to discuss with her.

I went to see Saito at his training ground in order to ask of him a few items. Once asked politely, I was able to collect some writing supplies. Saito was afterwards whisked away by Jean Colbert, who wanted to share his discoveries with him. I waved at him, before finding a quiet place to write my notes. It was only later, when the sun started to fall in the horizon, that a servant came to let me know that I had been summoned for dinner.

It was how I ate with the Tristainian guests. Tables had been put outside for my intent, turning dinner into a joyful affair under the stars. There was the Knights Corps I had met earlier, Jean Colbert, the ice mage Tabitha, a energetic blue-haired girl-child, a tanned red-headed young woman I hadn't met staying near her, Saito, and Tiffania, who was wearing her school uniform. The last two stood out like sore thumbs in the cheery atmosphere the schoolboys were displaying. While they were bragging about the honour their future feats would bring them if Gallia made a move, Saito looked as if he had been crying just before coming, a fake smile plastered on his face, and Tiffania was deep in her thoughts, eyes shifting from Saito to I. Louise must be linked somehow, as she wasn't even here to eat with others.

I talked with Colbert about several topics while staying near Tiffania. Surprisingly, the blonde poet I had smacked in the head with my sword apologised for his rudeness. Some of his friends told me afterwards his fiancée would probably thank me for hammering down the playboy in him. They also congratulated me for the skill I showed during my duel with Saito. The tanned girl introduced herself to me as Kirche Zerbst, a Germanian fire mage, and classmate of Tabitha and Louise. Seeing the difference in appearance and height, I wondered how they were in the same year. The dynamic blue-haired girl, who was following Tabitha like a puppy, was named Irukuku, and they told me she was a relative.

It didn't last long however. Saito left quickly, the knights-in-training had trained all day and were legitimately tired and Colbert had things to complete. Kirche soon followed. Tabitha gave Tiffania and I a glance before leaving with Irukuku. I was grateful to Tabitha, she noticed I wanted to speak alone with my summoner.

She was mesmerised by one of the candles on the table, hypnotised by the light of the flame in the middle of the dark the night brought. I couldn't help but smile fondly at this adorable sight. I have done the same thing thousands of times before.

''Is there something bothering you Tiffania?'' Seeing her face lose her focus as I called her was worth ending the cute scene I had been observing.

''Quelaan?'' Tiffania asked, blinking. We made some small talk at the beginning of the dinner but she returned to her thoughts soon after. ''Where is everyone?''

''The dinner just ended. The others left a few minutes ago.'' I informed her.

''Ah. Sorry, you must have been waiting for me.'' She apologised.

''Don't worry. It is nothing. I am more concerned about what is preoccupying you Tiffania. You have been distracted since I first saw you tonight.'' I told her, myself curious about what concerned her.

''I don't want to worry you with my problems.'' She said. I managed to not look at her strangely, she was the one who had asked me to become her friend.

''It is my job, both as your familiar and as your friend, to worry about your problems and to help you find them a solution.'' I reminded her. I had taken an oath to serve her, and I took my promises seriously. To do my work half-heartedly would be a shame to the name of Izalith, and I didn't want to subject myself to the wrath of Quelaan of Izalith. I knew exactly how dangerous I was.

''But...'' Tiffania hesitated despite my words.

''Or were you joking when you asked me to become your friend?'' It was a move that could considered as dirty-handed, but it suited the circumstances. If Tiffania stayed silent, fearing the guilt and embarrassment she would feel in sharing her problem, I only had to make her think that not telling me would make her even more guilty. My friend didn't expect the sudden dilemma I gave her. After a few moments of panicked thoughts, she finally cracked.

This afternoon, the Pope had summoned her, Louise, and Henrietta into a private room to learn more about the Void. Louise owned an ancient relic of Brimir, a blank book where Void spells were written for the ones it deemed worthy. Using another relic, inherited royal rings as keys, of which Tiffania bore one on her left middle finger, the Ruby of Wind, they tried to extract more information from the book.

Only Vittorio had learned a new spell, one named World Door. It allowed the user to create a one-way dimensional portal to another world, which was, from a test cast, identified as Saito's homeworld.

''Louise was delighted to have found a way to go to Saito's homeland, but His Holiness asked us to not tell Saito. He would lose his reason to go to the holy land if he learned that, and casting the spell anyway would drain all of His Holiness's willpower, he couldn't allow himself to cast it to help a single person. Then, Louise ran of the room.'' Tiffania told, her tone dejected.

''I see.'' Showing my comprehension. ''You have been thinking about what you would have done had the spell shown you my homeland of Izalith?'' She nodded. ''Your problem is then irrelevant. I left Lordran willingly and I would prefer fighting an army than going back.'' There would be one coming soon enough to prove my point had her worries been justified.

''I know. You already told me that, but maybe it's the runes that make you think that way.'' Warned Tiffania. Oh. If she was aware of the runes most likely affecting my mind, her fears were much more logical. I told her I wanted to stay with her, but she wasn't even sure if it was me speaking or her spell's compulsion.

''You were worried the magical compulsions linked to the runes you have branded on my chest prevent me from wanting to leave, slowly destroying any personality I had before you brainwashed me into a lovesick puppy following your every whim?'' I exprimed for her. How I loved to see the other's face in front of my overwhelming bluntness.

Tiffania was shocked by my the radiance of my outspokenness. ''How did you know?'' Finally went out of her lips.

I had so many ways to answer her it was more cumbersome than amusing to find the most fitting. I could tell her I figured it right now, that Saito had told me, that I saw it when I fought Saito. I could tell her it was obvious for any paranoid spellcaster, or that her summoning spell was so fishy I could smell it back in Blighttown through the faeces. Finally, I chose the most appropriate answer.

''I am Quelaan of Izalith, that's how. Such foul magic cannot hope to sully the brilliance of my mind.'' I declared, displaying my greatness.

Once Tiffania wasn't awed by my presence anymore, she offered. ''Would you like me to cleanse your mind from the runes' compulsion? I have already done it once with Saito.''

I thought it was possible but I wasn't sure. Once I checked again that it was safe, I agreed. Tiffania took out her catalyst wand and cast her spell. It took an awful amount of time and a very long incantation. ''How do you feel?'' Tiffania asked me.

I thought about it. ''I am not feeling much different. Just a regret of not talking to my sister Quelana before leaving.'' I noted. The spell was probably very well-made, or minor, if it could target such specific intent as inconvenient. I took out the notes I had written before dinner from my sleeve and read them. I had written the most important information about myself on it, in case the runes' compulsion or Tiffania's spell made me forget or suppress anything. Once I checked everything, I burned the paper, satisfied.

You can never be too careful with mind-altering magic.

There had been an awkward silence as I read my notes, as Tiffania was mystified by my paranoia. Once I satisfied my caution, she asked me. ''Quelaan, do you know where you will sleep tonight?''

It was a legitimate question. I was a conundrum for any human host unprepared for my sudden appearance. Too big for an ordinary bed, too large to enter some buildings, too dignified and intelligent to tolerate sleeping with horses. They were unaware I was perfectly fine sleeping on the ground outside, not that I actually wanted to. I just didn't have a catalyst so I wouldn't be able to cast wards and other sorceries for my comfort.

''I will ask His Holiness's men to help me in this endeavour, but I can always ask them later. There has been something I have wanted to ask you.'' While I would repeat a previous question, the fact that I had learned much more about the background would give me more answers. There was something about Tiffania Westwood that I had yet to pin down.

''Tiffania, for which reason did you summon me?'' I asked her a similar question this morning. But instead of asking her the purpose of the summoning, I asked her why she did it in the first place.

My summoner didn't look surprised at the sudden change of topic. She looked instead resigned. ''Since we arrived in Romalia, everyone had been preparing for something dangerous involving King Joseph, and Saito will probably find himself in the middle of this. I care about him, I don't want him to be hurt. I thought I could help him if I had a familiar.'' She said to me, in her soft-spoken voice.

Nothing unexpected at least, and I had learned something about her. She was very perceptive for a girl with no tactical knowledge if she could somehow feel that Saito would be on the frontlines. However, it was there she surprised me.

''But I don't think it was the true reason I summoned you. I was envious of Louise and of her relation with Saito. I too wanted a familiar for myself, someone that will always stay with me. I know it was extremely selfish of me, but I thought my familiar would know how I feel.'' She took a deep breath, before whispering what sounded like her greatest secret. ''I felt lonely.''

Once again, Tiffania just stood there waiting my judgement, while I, once again, was wondering what there was to judge. I didn't understand where was the problem in what she desired, until she made her final comment. In a single great mental effort using all the ressources my brilliant mind offered me, I was able to make sense out of Tiffania's guilty feelings.

Tiffania Westwood was far, far from being stupid.

She understood the meaning of the summoning ritual. She knew she was a Void mage, she expected to summon a human when she performed it. She knew she would bring someone from afar to her, and that this person wouldn't have the choice to go back home. It was literally taking someone away. A lone boy, a loved husband, a sick child, a distorted swordsman, a pregnant woman, a cursed witch, she could have summoned anyone and this person would have to stay with her.

Yet, even though this ritual was absurdly hazardous, she went through it. One could think after seeing Tiffania in her nun regalia that such a saintly and even-tempered girl wouldn't perform such a morally disturbing ritual if it weren't for the well-being of the people she loved.

The truth, however, was that she did it for herself.

Suddenly, I charged Tiffania. Taking her head in the embrace of my arms, I hugged her with affection. ''Tiffania! You silly, silly, brilliant girl! I was even righter than I thought deciding to stay with you!'' I said, crying out in awe at the naïve, but not so innocent girl who summoned me. The half-elf in my arms looked thoroughly astonished by my reaction.

She didn't complete the ritual despite its consequences, but because of these same consequences. She was aware she did it because of her loneliness. This is why she felt guilty and so eager to face my judgement.

Tiffania Westwood is a half-elf, a hybrid between two people or races with a huge enmity towards each other. Her question concerning her ears this morning, which was at first sight funny, had a much darker undertone behind it. She feared discrimination. And if being one of the few, if only, half-elves on Halkeginia wasn't enough, she is also one of the only Void mages on the continent. There was also the fact that she was currently the only remaining scion of a now extinct royal bloodline. To top it all, she is a gorgeous girl with a body no boy, and even most men could ignore, and of which girls could only be jealous and resentful. As an individual, I didn't know anyone else more unique than her, other than myself.

To say Tiffania Westwood is lonely is like saying Nito is scary. It is so obvious it goes over your head.

She knew it, and it was why she thought a summoned other-wordly being would understand her, the feeling of being the only one of its kind in the world. Saito didn't tell me much but I understood he came from a land much more technologically developed than either Halkeginia or Lordran, it must have been tough on him to deal with the differences in customs from switching societies. The fact that it was likely that her summoned being didn't have any prejudice against elves was a plus.

Thus, I hugged her.

With a very good understanding of her situation, she prepared a course of action, weighed the pros and cons and followed her decision. Furthermore, she was lucky enough to succeed, summoning someone as incredible as I during the best of opportunities. Hugging Tiffania was the best way to convey the feelings of awe and gratefulness I had towards her and the qualities she displayed prior to my summoning.

First confused, my fair-headed friend didn't know how to react. But once she felt my comprehension, she hugged me back, relieved by my acceptance, pressing her impressive breasts to my stomach. We stayed like this for a while, Tiffania having trouble not sniffing as she cried in relief. I played with her ears from the back of her head, tickling her until she laughed. My friend took a handkerchief out of her pocket, for she did have a handkerchief in her pocket, and blew her nose before speaking to me.

''Thank you Quelaan.''

''It is I who should thank you Tiffania.'' I reminded her. ''Still, we were lucky your spell turned out so well for both of us. Just be careful with rituals with hazardous effects in the future.'' I nicely warned her.

It was soon after this heartfelt embrace that we wished each other good night. As I thought about it, I smiled when I realised I would now be sincere considering Tiffania as a friend.

* * *

- Scene Break -

* * *

Tiffania and I parted ways for the night. It was still early, but soon lights would be put out and it would be completely dark, I would have a hard time seeing in front of me. I could always find a way, but I didn't want to consume any of my feelings to generate a flame at this moment. I was still savouring the discussion I had had with my new friend.

Today had been a long day. Between the outrageous stories I had listened to and the deceitful plots I had interfered with, without mentioning dirty-mouthed old swords I had contended against, it had been very exhausting. It was only because of the emotionally draining scene with Tiffania that I realised how tired I was. I walked towards the tower in the center of the castle, being the only building with a door large enough for me, when I saw that someone was waiting.

It was Julio Cesare, the Pope's familiar. I hadn't see him much, so I only recognised him due to the contrast between his white priestly clothes and the imposant blue cape he was wearing. A confident smile was adorning his pretty face. Now that I paid attention to him, I noticed he had heterochromatic eyes, the right blue and the left somewhat red.

I internally sighed. I intended to have the first dreams I had in a very long time to be about the few good deeds I have done today, not scheming on how thwarting another human plot. The conversation will be annoying.

''Miss Quelaan of Izalith.'' He greeted me. ''I fear I didn't have the pleasure to introduce myself earlier, my name is Julio Cesare. A fellow familiar of the Void, Windalfr.'' He took out his right glove, showing me his runes. Walking towards me, he politely took my hand with his and kissed it, watching me in the eyes. ''A pleasure to make your acquaintance.''

''I saw you in the cathedral Sir Cesare. I apologise for the behaviour I displayed there. Since my arrival, everything had been overwhelming for me.'' My voice expressing my weariness. Overwhelmingly ridiculous more precisely, but he didn't need to hear that.

''There is no reason to worry, I have been through it too. Everything is so disorienting at first but it gets better with time. Keeping your mind open helps a lot.'' He reassured me sympathetically, still keeping his charming smile.

This Julio reminded me somewhat of Guiche de Gramont due to circumstances, both being blonde pretty boys who tried to seduce me in the same day. But if it wasn't for that fact, I wouldn't even compare the two. Guiche was a philanderer while this Julio was a ladies man, it was an important distinction. The first seduced girls while the second acted in such a way he attracted women's affection.

Unfortunately, being a ladies man made Julio much more dangerous from a political standpoint. It meant he was used to be calculating and displaying a friendly face, making him hard to read. The young man did not betray any emotion after his experimentation with my hand.

He took off his glove and kissed my hand in greeting, that alone was suspicious. Maybe it was paranoid of me, it was a gesture I have seen several times performed by educated men trying to make an impression on well-bred women. Depending on the current social customs it might perhaps be a little daring, but it was nothing especially unusual.

What was especially unusual however, was that the kissed hand belonged to me, Quelaan of Izalith, someone looking like a hybrid between a woman and an oversized spider, and that the daring and charming young man who seized it bore the runes of Windalfr, which from the intelligence I gathered from Saito, held the power to control animals. It sounded awfully like he was trying to learn if he could use his power to control me.

''Thank you for the advice.'' I said, before asking. ''For you to stand alone here at this hour of the night, I suppose you are waiting for someone. Who is the lucky girl?'' I gave him a knowing, yet tired, look.

He let out a small laugh. ''I am a man of the cloth, I fear I am single. But it doesn't mean I can't wait for beautiful women. I was here tonight for you, Miss Quelaan. I volunteered to lead you to your sleeping arrangements.''

I wondered how long he had been waiting for me, and if he had spied on my discussion with Tiffania before backing away there. I would have been angry had he interrupted the touching scene. If Vittorio Severare gave me the impression of a shark, Julio Cesare was a snake.

''How kind of you.'' I muttered, not even trying to hide my sleepiness.

After another flourish, Julio Cesare led the way. He talked about how they managed to find a solution for the riddle I gave them as hosts. It somehow involved a mattress, an experiment, an alchemist sleeping with dragon eggs, an angried wife, and how they were now both healing in a healer's house because they had messed around near the mother dragon.

I already heard such an anecdote in Lordran, with basilisks instead of dragons since dragons were much too dangerous for a stupid alchemist to be able to experiment on them, so I was bored as he spoke. It didn't help that he was talking about mattresses as the more I thought about sleep, the more I realised the lack I had. Thus, I was surprised when Julio abruptly changed topic.

''What do you think of our quest to the holy land, as a fellow sister of the Void?'' Innocently asked the young man.

''Sister of the Void?'' I repeated, wondering where he had found such a name.

''All bearers of the Void are descendants of the Founder Brimir. To have them reunited for the sake of a single goal makes them alike to brothers and sisters. And us, their familiars, are part of this, thus the name. I found it fitting.'' Explained Julio, enthusiastic.

The stray thought of telling him there was more chance that I was Brimir's grandma than his sister went through my mind, but I would have to explain myself afterwards. Or maybe not and he would treat it as a joke. Or maybe he was already used to such outlandish news and he would believe me. I should seriously take into account such thoughts when it comes to Halkeginia. So I just plainly answered his question.

''You and your Pope aren't naïve enough to believe this crusade for the holy land will bring you peace so your real aim is elsewhere but you need the crusade to reach it.'' I blandly stated. Oddly enough, Julio froze on the spot. Something went out of his lips after a long silence.

''Why do you think such things Miss Quelaan? The holy land is Halkeginia's hope for a better world.'' The young man didn't sound convincing when his whole body was tense.

''Ah, so you don't care about the holy land being in the possession of the elves, but you want something from the holy land that will help Halkeginia.'' I noticed. Julio Cesare suddenly turned around and gave me a look, openly calculating how much of a threat I was.

It was seeing this gesture that reminded me of how young the politicians I met today were. The three oldest people I had talked to since I came to Halkeginia, not including Derflinger since I doubted he had once been human, were Jean Colbert, Agnès de Milan and Vittorio Severare. Jean Colbert, a man in his mid-forties was a teacher whose only job here was to watch over his students. Agnès was not exactly a bodyguard as I thought, but a squad captain of the Tristain Army directly under the command of her queen. She was only half as old as Colbert, being in her early-twenties. Then, finally, the current uncontested leader of Romalia, Vittorio Severare, even younger than Agnès.

Everyone else from whom I cared to remember the name were in their late teens. They were still at the age where they discovered their feelings, and struggled against their insecurities. They never had much time either to experience devious political schemes or trying to see things in perspective.

Julio Cesare was a young man who, through luck and peculiar circumstances, had become the right-hand man of one of the most important people in the country. They had both tried their hand at politics, brainstorming to the best of their abilities to design the most intelligent plan they could conceive, and now the youth was astonished about how I was able to discern his intentions with a glance and a few words. I wondered for a second if I had been right to be so worried during the day, I had more experience in politics than all of them could hope to obtain together in a century.

''How did you notice it?'' Julio finally asked.

''Because I know human nature.'' I stated wearily. The holy land won't change anything in Halkeginia. There would be some celebration and then they would fight to be the one to benefit the most from it. As simple as that. Agnès didn't need to feel insecure in her faith in Mankind to want to make me suffer a painful death. It was the same in Lordran.

Julio was obviously not satisfied by my answer, so I compromised. ''Bring me to my bed, I will talk on the way.'' We continued to walk.

''If you wanted to earn money or power, you wouldn't propose a crusade.'' I began, speaking with a lethargic voice. ''Too costly, too risky, and you would lose of your influence if you failed. It would have been a much better plan to take Tiffania Westwood as your ward and put her on the throne of Albion. The Pope should be able to legitimate a bastard child, and you can always find a way to hide her ears if you want to.'' I would have to admit it was the first thing I had thought once I had heard Tiffania was a fitz. ''There is also the risk of alienating her if you force her to fight against the elves.''

''It would surprise me if you wanted to exterminate a race either through ideology or desire for war. You seem too calculating to have such thoughts. So in the end, I have the impression you are being forced to plan this crusade.'' I yawned.

Julio continued to walk, if slower. We were near the place he had told me about, we had already left the castle. He listened in silence.

''There are very few chances of a hostage being involved. You would prefer abandoning it before sending an army to a foreign country. So in the end, the only remaining possibility is somehow preventing a major disaster. Maybe the end of the world.'' While it sounded ridiculous, it was exactly what Gwyn had asked the covenant to do. What could be done once, could be done twice.

We walked a little more, until we arrived in front of some huge wooden door. My eyelids were heavy and I really wanted to close my eyes. Opening the door, Julio Cesare looked at me, his smile quite difficult to read. ''It was an interesting hypothesis, but what would you do if it were the truth?''

From the boy, it sounded quite like an admission, but I was too tired to really care. I sighed. ''First, I would sleep and then I would think about it.'' I would prefer thinking on how I could find a way to not concern myself with the problem, but I would most probably have to deal with it if nobody else could. I might as well help him. ''But if you want some advice for this hypothetical situation, I would say it is both egocentric and presumptuous to think you can save the world on your own. It is not just your problem.'' I reminded him.

''I see, thanks you for the advice.'' Said Julio.

''Good night. Send someone wake me up in the morning.'' I requested.

''As you wish. Good night, Miss Quelaan.'' He left.

I was tired. I produced a fire to give me some light. The room was big, and the straw mattress on the ground almost filled the entire place. I put out the fire once I knew where I would walk. I took the big sheet that was laying nearby and wrapped it around my human body. I sat, appreciating the meagre additional comfort the mattress granted, and tried to sleep, in a surprisingly pleasant silence and darkness.

Between the impending Gallian invasion, the new pyromancer I had to teach and who wanted to kill me, the eventual major disaster looming over all our heads, and all of the outlandish things I had yet to learn that would try my sanity, the future seemed promising. I found reassurance in the fact that it was still better than Blighttown. At least, I didn't smell of faeces.

I fell asleep for the first time in a very long time.

It felt glorious.

**End of the chapter**

**Author's note:**

**I think I have learned how time-consuming it is to write a 20k long chapter in less than two months. I have planned on writing 18k, but it ended even longer than the first chapter.**

**For those wondering, I am using material from both the anime and the light novel of Zero no Tsukaima to write.**

**Some scenes were very fun to write, some much more difficult. All I can hope is that the chapter is fluent.**


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